wisteria blooming
by halcyon epochs
Summary: A collection of 100 unrelated drabbles, aka my dumping ground. [100. DudleyPiers]
1. unity at its finest (Fred & Aberforth)

**Writing Club**

Days of the Month - World Bartender Day - Write about Aberforth Dumbledore

A Year In Entertainment - TV: House - (object) Cane

Count Your Buttons - (dialogue) "Think about it.", (Character) Fred Weasley, (Word) Neck

Book Club - Stuart Redman - (word) self defense, (word) leader, (dialogue) "Enjoy it while it lasts. I have a feeling there's going to be a shortage of cold beer this summer."

Showtime - Defying Gravity - (dialogue) "Think of what we could do together."

Lyric Alley - 23. I've never tasted fame

Liza's Loves - Old Pal - Write about old friends.

 **Other Challenges**

Insane House Challenge - 943. (restriction) No Slytherins

Serpent Day - Pit Viper - (word) tidy

* * *

 **Genre: Friendship**

 **Word Count: 735**

* * *

The painting of Ariana has barely swung shut when when loud _crack_ reverberates through the room; the telltale sound of Apparition. Aberforth readies his wand.

A girl coughs. "You think this would get easier," she rasps. She has vibrant crimson hair, which is is windswept and unruly, and she's standing beside another girl, who has black hair and is dusting off her robes.

The dark-haired boy, who looks mildly disoriented, asks, "Where are we?"

(Aberforth thinks it's miraculous how these kids haven't noticed him yet.)

"Aberforth's pub," one of the redheaded boys says, brushing dust from his hair. Another boy, identical to him, nods affirmatively.

Aberforth clears his throat. The group spins around simultaneously and breathe a unanimous sigh of relief.

"Which one of you is Fred Weasley?" Aberforth asks, approaching the group, his eyes searching for the leader.

The twin on the right steps forward. "I am."

Aberforth eyes him suspiciously. In times like this, he could not just admit anyone in without verifying their identity. "What happened to your brother? You know, the one with the glasses?"

"Oh, _him,"_ he says, disgust coloring his tone. "The traitorous git abandoned us a while ago for his precious job. Bloody wanker."

The other two redheads bob their heads. "Arsehole," the girl volunteers, with the expression of someone who has just swallowed a lemon.

"Good," Aberforth says. He points to the portrait. "There's your way in. Good day."

Fred looks miffed. "How terribly inhospitable of him, especially since he's an old pal of mine," he says to his twin. "He could offer us a beer or something. After all, we've risked our necks just to come here."

"I know, right? After all we've been through." The twin shakes his head disapprovingly. "Tut, tut."

Aberforth bites back a growl, his temper rising. "Fine," he snaps, trudging into the kitchen. His stock of beer is almost out, but he has two bottles left along with some unopened mead. All of the them except for the red-haired girl look overage. He grabs a few wine glasses and a tray of stale bread and heads out.

The group is conversing among themselves and they quiet as he enters. There is the sound of slurping and chewing as the party devours the food.

"Hey, Aberforth, what kind of beer is this?" asks the dark-haired boy, drinking a quarter of the bottle in one swig. "This is good stuff."

"Brewer's Brew," says Aberforth gruffly. "Enjoy it while it lasts. I have a feeling there's going to be a shortage of cold beer this summer."

"You think?" The other redheaded boy snatches the bottle of mead away from the girl, who looks disappointed (Aberforth assumes she'd been trying to sneak a taste).

The dark-haired boy stands up, his stance a little wobbly from the alcohol. "Where's the loo?" he queries hoarsely.

"Behind the kitchen, first door on the right."

The boy stumbles from the room. Aberforth asks irritably, "Are you done?"

Fred swallows the last drop of mead and wipes his mouth with his shirt. He glances around. "Seems so. We'd best be off."

The group nods collectively. Fred rises. "Come with us," he offers unexpectedly.

Aberforth nearly does a double take. "Sorry?"

"You should come fight with us," he elaborates. "An extra hand is always welcome."

"Do I look twenty to you, boy?" he retorts, gesturing to his cane. "I was never good at self-defense. I'm just a bartender and an old goat. I'd be of no use to you."

"Think about it," the other redheaded boy urges. "Think about what we could do together. Do you want a world where You-Know-Who wins?"

First the Potter boy, now the Weasley twins? Is he really that reluctant?

"C'mon, you have to admit, being famous would be awesome," Fred says. "Whaddaya say? Up to it?"

Aberforth is still hesitant. He doesn't want fame, he wants a life of peace and solitude, which he won't receive unless he accepts what he has to do, and that's fight.

He nods slowly, and a cheer erupts, and he's swarmed by red hair and the smell of alcohol.

"I knew you'd come around!" someone whoops, and Aberforth is pricked by irritation. However, he feels _amazing._ For the first time in years, perhaps _decades,_ he's going to use his wand for something other than tidying up spilled beverages. And he is _excited._

Maybe this isn't so horrible, after all.


	2. my demons can't haunt me (Bellatrix)

**Writing Club**

Disney Challenge - One Jump Ahead - Write about a close call

Amber's Attic - Druella Black

Book Club - Trashcan Man - (character) Bellatrix Lestrange, (word) fire, (word) destruction

Showtime - March of the Witch Hunters - (trait) Coward

Lyric Alley - 16. I feel my demons

A Year in Entertainment - Song: "Hey Ya!" by OutKast - (dialogue) "Don't try to fight this feeling."

Liza's Loves - Black Magic - Write about someone performing dark magic

 **Other Challenges**

Serpent Day - Desert Death Adder - (character) Bellatrix Lestrange

Insane House Challenge - 308. (spell) Crucio

* * *

 **Genre: Angst/Tragedy/Horror**

 **Warning for torture**

* * *

Bellatrix screams, the drapes billow, and the _crack_ rings in her ears, foretelling her of her incoming doom.

 _No, no, we're so close..._

Not one second later, she feels an ominous presence above her head, though the rest of the room is still.

"Where is the boy?" His voice is frigid, but with an underlying tone of hope.

Bellatrix backs away, for once unwilling. Around her, the rest of her fellow Death Eaters stare at their feet. No one wants to tell him of their failure, for fear of losing their lives.

 _"Where is he?"_

Her voice is small when she speaks. "He...he escaped, my Lord."

There is deathly silence that follows. And then, a murderous scream, even more deafening than hers. This one causes the destruction of her conscience. It shatters windows, grates their ears. The frustration of the Dark Lord being denied another opportunity because of his incompetent followers...and _she's_ going to pay the price for it, simply because she's in charge.

"You shall be punished!" he shouts furiously, and then next thing she knows, her nerves are set on fire, and she's screaming too. She writhes on the ground, and yet, no one moves to help her, because they all dread the Dark Lord's wrath.

 _"Crucio!"_ he screams. _"Crucio!"_

She fights the pain, the agony, trying to quench it, and then suddenly it's gone. She sits up, dazed.

"Don't try to fight this feeling," he says remorselessly. "I need to instill some of my disappointment in you to teach a lesson. Next time—if there is one— _do not let the boy go!"_

And then he tortures her again, and she lets the feeling of his disappointment wash over her. She screams, screams, but doesn't repress the fire coursing through her veins. She deserves this, she's earned this retribution for her insufficiency.

The rest of room watches her suffer in silence, and their blurry faces swim in front of her eyes. They also seem to be telling her _You warranted this penalty._

And then, she sees her parents' ghosts, their distressed faces, and they also seem to be chiding her. _You're a coward, Bella,_ her mother Druella says, and her father just stares blankly at her.

And she tells all of them right back: _So did you, and you will also have endure the consequences._

* * *

 **388 words**


	3. poison in your smile (GinnyPansy)

**Writing Club**

Disney Challenge - Jafar - Write about someone manipulative.

Book Club - Julie Lawry - (character) Pansy Parkinson, (word) poison, (word) information

Showtime - Dancing Through Life - (dialogue) "It's clear we deserve each other."

Days of the Month - Pluto Day - Write about someone who is often overlooked or forgotten

Count Your Buttons - (dialogue) "We all know it's true.", (word) fruit

Lyric Alley - 28. As life breaks new ground

Liza's Loves - Widow's Kiss - Write about someone moving on

Jenny's Jovial Quotations - 10. "I once dated a guy who was so dumb he couldn't count to twenty-one unless he was naked." - Joan Rivers

 **Other Challenges**

Femslash February - 46. GinnyPansy

Serpent Day - Green anaconda - (object) apple

Insane House Challenge - 940. (restriction) Only two characters

* * *

 **Genre: Romance/Friendship**

 **GinnyPansy**

* * *

"It's clear we deserve each other."

Ginny pauses, her teeth buried in an apple. "What?"

"We all know it's true," Pansy elaborates. "I like you, you like me."

"I thought we had already clarified that." Ginny extracts her teeth, leaving two symmetrical bite marks in the fruit.

"I know we did," Pansy says, her eyes focused on her nails as she painstakingly paints them. "But we haven't made it official yet. I think we should."

Ginny gazes at her. She likes this girl, the opportunities she offers, the alluring poison in her smile. She's not the prissy girl everyone thinks she is, she actually has substance. She's manipulative and clever, and Ginny has found herself under her influence on a multitude of occasions (willingly).

"I don't know if we should," she says. "It's a dangerous time. I'm a Gryffindor and you're a Slytherin. We're at the peak of our rivalry right now."

"No shit, Sherlock," Pansy deadpans. "So what? You decided to defy that the moment you started fancying me. What's the point in stopping now?"

"I suppose you have a point," Ginny sighs. That's another thing she likes about Pansy- her sharp tongue. Sometimes, she thinks they both could've been Sorted into Ravenclaw.

Pansy smiles. "I know."

They sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Ginny continues eating her apple, and Pansy's eyes flick back and forth between her nails and Ginny's lips.

"You know, you're not like any other guy or girl I've dated," Pansy says. "You're someone who actually has a brain."

"All people have brains, Pans."

"I could contest that," Pansy snorts. "I once dated a guy who was so dumb he couldn't count to twenty-one unless he was naked. What I meant was, you're someone who I can war with intellectually. Someone who appreciates my dry humor and returns it back."

Ginny, ironically, has nothing to say to the near-compliment. "Er, thanks?"

Pansy sets down the bottle of nail polish and blows on her nails. "And another thing: it would be useful to have information from both sides of the war, right? You associate with the light side, me with the dark side. We don't have to tell anyone we're involved. That'll be our little secret."

Ginny ponders this. She's always relished the idea of sneaking around and being in a private relationship. Ever since she'd left Harry, it had been the talk of the school for several days and she was often accosted by people in the corridors, asking for the details of their breakup (which she was less than inclined to disclose). Furthermore, Ron and Hermione had been giving her numerous dirty looks in the halls. Apparently, Harry was upset and inconsolable and they were condemning her for that.

(In her opinion, he had more pressing matters to worry about, like defeating Voldemort.)

Granted, she'd been pretty distressed herself, but unlike Harry, she had moved on. She had "clicked" with Pansy not long after, and the two had been meeting up multiple times a week, under the guise of acquaintances.

(The school is gullible, Ginny thinks wryly. It's plenty obvious they're so much more than that.)

She and Pansy worked well together in most circumstances, which would've been a surprise but Ginny's endured more surprises than she can count, being the youngest and the only girl from seven children in her immediate family.

"That sounds brilliant," she agrees. "I think we'll benefit more from that kind of partnership."

Pansy smiles, danger and promise mixing to form a deadly concoction. "I like the way you think."

* * *

 **593 words**


	4. stardust (SiriusRemus)

**Hogwarts**

 **Assignment 3,** **Task #7 - _Apollo, God of Music:_** Write a musician!AU

 **Library Lovers -** _Fangirl, Rainbow Rowell_ **-** (plot point) Misunderstanding, (plot point) Something coming to an end, (restriction) Feature a slash pairing

 **Insane House Challenge -** (word count) 1000 words

 **Scavenger Hunt -** 3\. Write a slash pairing

 **Writing Club**

Character Appreciation - (trait) Accepting of those that are different than him

Disney Challenge - The Sultan - Word Set: Hypnotized/short/happy

Book Club - Nick Andros - (AU) deaf-mute, (genre) friendship, (trait) intelligent

Showtime - I'mm Not That Girl - (word) steal

Count Your Buttons - (character) Remus Lupin

Lyric Alley - 7. I'm a little bit nervous

Restriction of the Month - (Song) Beautiful by Christina Aguilera

Liza's Loves - Death by Chocolate - Write about Remus Lupin

* * *

 **Genre: Romance/Friendship**

 **Summary: Sirius moves in next door to a musician. Not only is his music beautiful, but so is he...**

 **(Wolfstar)**

* * *

Remus's fingers fly gracefully across the piano keys, creating a beautiful melody that could be heard for miles around...

...or at least, in the next flat over.

Sirius Black is Remus's new neighbor, and he is unpacking his belongings when he hears the rich tune floating through the air. Hypnotized, he halts and listens to the music for a few minutes, wondering where on Earth it's coming from.

Almost as if he were in trance, he follows the sound, his feet moving of their own accord. He stumbles out of his flat and to the door of the next one. His body collapses on the door and Sirius snaps out of his daze, righting himself and clearing his throat loudly, and glances around to ensure there are no witnesses. Thankfully, with the exception of a lone pigeon, there are none.

He raises his fist and knocks on the door, first softly but when the music doesn't cease, a bit harder. No one answers the door no matter how many times he knocks, and by then his knuckles are raw from practically banging on the wood.

His next course of action is to try the doorknob, and to his surprise, the door is unlocked and swings open abruptly, causing Sirius to nearly lose his balance _again._ He steadies himself, making a mental note to tell the owner to lock the door, or at least install a security system.

His quest is easy from there. He wanders around the flat, admiring the sheer number of notebooks, novels, and sheet music stacked neatly in piles. Most of the rooms he passes are organized in a similar fashion, and he marvels that despite the small size of the flat, everything has its own place.

Finally, he arrives at the source of the music and his ears register the rise in volume as he opens the door, his heart picking up in pace.

It seems to be a bedroom of sorts, save for a medium-sized piano situated in the rightmost corner. A man is seated there, his hands moving fluidly across the keys. From his position in the doorway, all Sirius can surmise about the man is that he has brown hair and is a talented pianist.

Sirius elevates his voice above the volume of the piano, but apparently the man can't hear. He tries futilely once more, and then with irritation swelling, he taps him on the shoulder.

The music cuts off as the man spins around in his chair and the first thing Sirius sees are his gorgeous amber eyes, clouded with alarm. He is the most stunning man he's ever encountered, there is no refuting it. He stares, enchanted.

The man raises his eyebrows and Sirius coughs, jerking out his stupor, realizing that he has absolutely no reason to be here, and therefore has nothing to say.

So, he says the first thing his mind invents. "Your music is beautiful."

The man cocks his head, but says nothing.

Sirius is bewildered, wondering if the man didn't hear him clearly. "I said, 'Your music is beautiful,'" he repeats.

The man lifts his slender hands and signs something. Fortunately, Sirius is well-educated in sign language and is able to immediately translate.

 _I'm sorry, but I am deaf and mute,_ the man signs.

 ** _Oh, I'm sorry,_** Sirius signs back, his cheeks blooming with scarlet. **_I completely embarrassed myself, didn't I?_**

The man shakes his head and Sirius feels relieved. **_I'm Sirius._**

They sign back and forth.

 _I'm Remus._

 ** _Nice to meet you._**

 _Same to you. What are you doing here?_

 ** _I heard your music._**

 _Was it loud?_

 ** _No, it was beautiful._**

 _Thank you._ Remus blushes. The redness in his pale cheeks makes Sirius smile.

 ** _Where did you learn to play like that?_**

 _Self taught. There aren't any instructors here who take on deaf and mute people._

 ** _Well, they are all gits to not have a brilliant student like you._**

This makes Remus crack a small smile.

 _Thank you. I have another question._

 ** _Ask away._**

 _Are you my new neighbor?_

 ** _In the flesh._**

 _Since you're new, I think I'll play a special song for you._

Remus turns back to the keyboard and his fingers start gliding across the keys, and complex notes start pouring out of the piano. The result is not the same song as before, but a different piece. Instead of stealing his breath, it fills him to the brim with something akin to happiness. It is a warm sensation that uplifts Sirius's spirits.

He is also awestruck. It must've taken him ages to compose it, which makes Sirius realize another thing: this man is not only a gifted musician, but he is intelligent. It strikes a chord within him.

(It's not easy to compose a song, and such a excellent one at that. Remus has a special aptitude, which makes him completely _brilliant_.)

It's a short song and it ends all too soon. Sirius claps, awed, and Remus turns to see an expression of bliss on his face.

 ** _That was amazing._**

 _Thank you._

 ** _No, really. It's incredible that despite having two disabilities, you still manage to brighten someone else's day with your music. That's the most selfless thing I've ever seen._**

Remus has evidently has nothing to sign to that, but it's blatantly obvious that he is flattered.

 _ **And as a bonus, you're attractive.**_

Crimson stains his cheeks as Sirius grins charmingly, but he is nothing but nervous inside. That was a bold statement directed at someone he barely knows, but it feels like he can trust this man.

Remus signs something back, and Sirius squints to translate it before a dazzling smile breaks out on his face.

 _You're pretty good-looking yourself._

(He definitely has a future with this man.)

Remus gazes at him in a way that says _the ball is in your court._

But Sirius already has something in mind.

 _ **Want to have dinner with me tomorrow night? My place, eight o'clock?**_

Remus nods, still flushed _,_ and signs one word: _yes._

* * *

 **1000 words**


	5. young hearts, old times (TeddyLily)

**Writing Club**

Character Appreciation - 5. (relationship) Father

Disney Challenge - Aladdin - Write about a survivor.

Book Club - Glen Bateman - (character) Remus Lupin, (word) mentor, (dialogue) "It's okay, [Name]. You don't know any better."

Showtime - A Sentimental Man - (relationship) Father/Child

Count Your Buttons - (song) Breakaway by Kelly Clarkson, (pairing) Teddy/Lily Luna, (word) official

Lyric Alley - 2. That things will get better

Liza's Loves - 4. Blushing Bride - Write about a woman on her wedding day.

 **Other Challenges**

Insane House Challenge - 681. (event) A wedding

Serpent Day - Cottonmouth - (word) mumble

Scavenger Hunt - 15. Write a family fic

* * *

Remus watches with amusement as his son frolics with Lily, the two children chasing each other around the meadow. He and Harry are seated on swings, keeping a careful eye on the pair but not interrupting their fun.

"You know, I miss being young," says Harry wistfully. "Despite everything that happened, I still miss my childhood. I often wonder what life would've been like if my parents had lived and I didn't have the weight of the world on my shoulders."

Remus pats his shoulder sympathetically. "I wonder the same thing, a world where lycanthropy didn't exist, where I don't have to be ashamed of who I am and what people think of me."

"You shouldn't have to, regardless," Harry says immediately. "There's a new law—"

"I know about that law," he says dryly. "It still doesn't change how people view me. They may tolerate it, but they still have the right to be prejudiced."

"Then they don't know anything about you," Harry says firmly. "They don't know that you're an incredible father and an amazing friend. They don't know what you contributed to the war. They don't know how brave and selfless you are. They don't know that you served as a wholesome mentor to me. Let them judge you as much as they want, but they can't demoralize you."

Remus stares at Harry, nostalgia washing over him . "You're so much like James," he murmurs. "You have a resolve made of steel and a heart of gold."

Harry smiles, and then there's a sudden shriek from the grass, and both fathers jump to their feet, their wands drawn in an instant.

Lily is being pinned to the ground by a victorious Teddy, squirming frantically, but Teddy is much stronger than her. A look of sheer distress paints her face and Teddy sobers, thinking she's about to cry.

"Oh no, please don't cry," Teddy pleads. "I didn't mean to tackle you so hard—"

A fit of giggles from below interrupts him. "I can believe you fell for that!" she squeals. "That's the oldest trick in the book!"

Teddy huffs and sits up. "No fair," he pouts.

The two men relax and sit back down, identical looks of relief on their face, and resume their discussion.

"Lily reminds me of Gin," says Harry fondly. "Not just the red hair, but her spunk and wittiness. She's the spitting image of both her mother and her grandmother."

(They both know he's not referring to Molly.)

There's another shout, but this time it's Teddy, who's closing in on Lily _again._ She tries to increase her speed, but he's too quick for her and tackles her to the ground.

"Got you again!" he exclaims triumphantly.

Lily wriggles, but she has no tricks up her sleeve this time, and has to admit defeat.

"Let me up," she whines. "My elbow hurts."

Teddy obliges and Lily sits up, rubbing her elbow gingerly. There's a thin scratch along the crease of her elbow. As the pair observes, a small drop of blood oozes out.

That's enough to make Teddy lose his marbles.

"She's hurt!" he cries. "Lily's hurt!" Tears start welling up in his eyes.

Remus and Harry exchange glances. "Do you want to—?

"I'll go." Remus stands and approaches them. Teddy, immediately upon seeing his father, throws himself towards him.

"I'm so sorry, Daddy," he mumbles, his voice muffled by Remus's cardigan.

"It's okay, Teddy," he says quietly. "You don't know any better. Now, let's take a look at Lily's scratch."

Throughout the entire ordeal in which Remus patches her up, Lily looks bemused at Teddy's insistence to stay close to her. "I'm okay, Ted," she says gently. "It's just a scratch. It'll heal in a day or so."

"That's right." Remus confirms. "It'll be gone by tomorrow, since's it's not a big scratch."

Teddy appears somewhat mollified.

"There, all done." Remus smooths down the band-aid and gets to his feet. "Make sure you change it after you wash. And you," he adds to Teddy, whose back straightens, "keep an eye on her, okay?"

Teddy nods resolutely and Lily rolls her eyes. "I don't need anyone to watch me! I'm nearly seven!"

"Yeah, but I'm the older one," taunts the blue-haired boy and the two start bickering.

Remus snorts and sits down the swing again. "One day, those two are going to get married."

"You think?" Harry chuckles.

* * *

Lily smooths down the skirt of her dress as Ginny adjusts her veil for the umpteenth time. "I can't believe my baby girl's getting married," the latter gushes.

Lily doesn't attempt to fend off her mother. "I know," she whispers, her voice shaky with excitement. "I'm becoming Mrs Lupin today!"

The two girls, one old and one young, jump and down exuberantly. Harry rolls his eyes affectionately.

There's a knock on the door and Remus sticks his head in. "How's my future daughter-in-law?"

"Chipper," Harry says, grinning. "She's _really_ looking forward to this. I think she started planning her wedding when she was born! And then she meets Teddy, and the position of future husband was officially cemented."

"Wow." Remus smiles as his eyes take in the sight of Ginny fussing over Lily's dress and the bride herself looking breathless. "I can also confirm that the bridegroom is also thrilled, but the nervous kind of thrilled."

"More nervous than when he asked for my permission to marry her?"

"Yup."

"Oh dear. Hopefully Lily's elation is contagious." Harry watches his wife and daughter fondly. "Scratch that, I think it is. Look at Gin. I don't think she's been this enthusiastic since James got married. Kind of reminds me of Molly."

"It does," Remus agrees. "Well, gotta go check up on Ted again. See you at the reception?"

"Where else would I go? Gin and Lil would murder me."

They laugh. Remus exits and Harry turns back to Ginny and Lily. "Are you ready?"

"Yes." There's not an ounce of hesitation in Lily's voice. Harry gives her a once-over.

"You look beautiful," he says, and Lily's cheeks pinken.

She really does, there's no denying it. Her wedding dress is gorgeous. The color of it flatters her complexion and seems to brighten up the room. Her cheeks are rosy and she looks enlivened.

"Dad," she admonishes.

"What? Am I not allowed to tell my daughter she looks beautiful?" he says teasingly. "Listen, Lils, I want to talk to you alone."

He glances at Ginny meaningfully and she takes the hint, retreating from the room.

"I just wanted tell you, sweetheart, that your mother and I love you very much and we're happy for you and Teddy. He's a wonderful young man, and he will take care of you."

Lily recognizes the seriousness of his words and nods, her jubilation subsiding temporarily.

"However, I just wanted to give you some advice," he says. "You're my only daughter, so this the first and last time I'm doing this."

"Marriage is a bumpy road. It will test your patience, your mental strength, and your love for each other. Don't be surprised if all of sudden, he loses his temper and starts yelling at you. Since Teddy inherited his father's even temper, it's very unlikely he'll do that, but there's always a chance. He is a man, and all men have egos."

"And you, meanwhile, inherited your mother's stubbornness. Which is a good thing, sometimes, but if not monitored, it can be deadly. Don't let your stubbornness get the best of you, Lil. It will only lead to more trouble."

Lily's eyes are wide and Harry fears he has pushed it too far.

"There's nothing to be afraid of," he continues sagely. "You just have to remember that in the end, you love each other and because of that, you can work out a solution. Your mother and I experienced that in the first few months, but we always managed to put our tempers aside and figure out what we had to do."

"I understand, Dad." Lily nods. "I thought it was strange, living with Teddy, but I eventually got used to it. We only got into arguments only a few times, and that was only over trivial things, but we always made up."

"That's good," Harry says approvingly. "It's nice to have some stability already established."

Lily gazes at her father for a few moments, and then she throws her arms around him in a tight embrace. "Thank you, Dad," she whispers. "You'll always be the first man in my life."

"You're welcome, sweetie," he murmurs. "I'll always be there for you."

* * *

 **1427 words**


	6. independence (suits me well) (Patils)

**Writing Club**

Disney Challenge - Raja - Write about a cat

Book Club - Whitney Horgan -(plot point) challenging someone, (word) stand, (word) consequence

Showtime - Popular - (character) Parvati Patil

Days of the Month - Singles' Awareness Day - Write about someone that is happily single.

A Year in Entertainment - Book: My Sister's Keeper by Jodi Picoult - (relationship) Sisters

Liza's Loves - Dark 'N' Stormy - Write about a storm.

 **Other Challenges**

Insane House Challenge - 934. (relationship) Siblings

Serpent Day - 70. Zebra Snake - (setting) library

* * *

(It's monsoon season in Britain. Rain is pouring down at every given moment. Just when the sun manages to peek out from behind the clouds, it is shoved back into darkness.)

Parvati makes a bold statement to her sister one evening, when they're studying in the library. Padma has her head buried in _A History of Magic_ and Parvati is fed up with her sister ignoring her in favor of her schoolwork.

"I'm never getting married," she declares.

Her announcement summons no shocked response from her sister, but earns her a vile look from Madam Pince. Parvati huffs.

"Seriously, I'm not," she insists. "Long-term relationships have never been for me. I'm not the type of person who can commit to anything, you know?"

Padma chooses this moment to surface from her textbook and make a witty, Ravenclaw remark. "Yeah, I'm witnessing a live demonstration."

Parvati scowls at her sister. "Shut up." She stands and storms away.

Padma smirks.

(Outside, a storm rages. The rain is unyielding. The ground absorbs the moisture, but eventually, it becomes a muddy, filthy mess.)

* * *

To prove she's serious, she starts dating around. She dates Dean for a week, then breaks up with him. Then she goes on a date with Seamus and then dumps him. This continues in a pattern—Ernie, Neville, Terry Boot—and all end in breakups, but not heartbreaks.

She marches up to her sister during breakfast six weeks after her initial proclamation. "So?"

"So what?" Padma, as usual, is engrossed in a book, this time a Transfiguration one.

"Have I proven to you that I'm _not_ a committed person? I've dated five boys in six weeks."

"Wow, that's impressive dedication," Padma deadpans. "You've established yourself as the school player. Such an accomplishment."

Parvati growls. "I'll prove you wrong," she snaps.

* * *

She adopts a cat the next Hogsmeade visit.

"A cat?" Padma asks in disbelief. "What's _that_ going to prove?"

"That I'm going to be an unmarried cat lady."

Padma shakes her head. She can't believe her sister sometimes.

(But then again, Parvati's always been the crazy one.)

(Little does she know, she's going to suffer the consequences of Parvati's determination.)

* * *

Padma finally admits defeat two months after Parvati adopts her first cat. By then, Parvati has acquired no less than five cats (including two kittens) (does McGonagall even allow that many?) and they're driving her up the wall.

"Okay, fine, fine, you're not going to get married!" Padma cries as Cat Number Three, Kitten Number One chews on one of her prized textbooks. "Now get it out of here! This is my room!"

Parvati smirks triumphantly, scooping the kitten into her arms. "See? I told you I'd prove you wrong."

(The monsoon has calmed. The ground is left to feel its effects.)


	7. there's always something to fight for

**Writing Club**

Book Club - Nadine Cross - (character) Narcissa Malfoy, (word) pure, (dialogue) "We… are… dead… and… this… is… Hell!"

Showtime - Dear Old Shiz - (setting) Hogwarts

Days of the Month - Hedgehog Day - Write about someone who looks cute but is quite prickly or dangerous

Liza's Loves - Four Horsemen - write a story with the 4 words: (war) (famine) (death) and (conquest)

 **Other Challenges**

Insane House Challenge - 507. (action) Dueling

Assignment 3 - Mythology - Task #6 - Athena, Goddess of Wisdom:Write about someone making a wise decision.

* * *

"We… are… dead… and… this… is… Hell!" Bill pants as he sprints through the fray, Fleur matching his every stride.

A Death Eater fires a Killing Curse at Fleur and she ducks. It collides with one of the banisters and explodes, sending debris everywhere. In the chaos, Fleur feels for Bill's hand and once she finds it, blindly casts a Stunning Spell in the opposite direction. There's a short wail, then silence.

The dust settles and Fleur brushes off the bits of rock clinging to her clothes. She checks on Bill and he doesn't seem seriously hurt either, so they resume their run through the masses.

Two more Death Eaters show up in front of them. Fleur exchanges a glance with and they immediately switch places.

(Being married has its side perks. You can always read the other's mind in any circumstance, and therefore helps you stay in sync.)

Fleur commences the duel by throwing a boil-inducing hex. Her strategy is to temporarily distract her opponent by putting him in some sort of vulnerable state, and then attack like a cobra. However, the Death Eater dodges her hex swiftly and retaliates with a Killing Curse.

 _Is that_ _all they know_ _?_ Fleur thinks wryly. She rolls out of the way and returns it with the Conjunctivitis Curse.

They throw spells at each other back and forth. At the corner of her eye, she sees that Bill is faring well. He has his Death Eater in a Body-Bind and tied up with ropes. He joins Fleur's battle and together they take down the Death Eater.

* * *

They continue to effortlessly defeat their adversaries, only sustaining minor injuries. The worst is a gash in Fleur's arm, but it doesn't hinder her skills.

Then the battle pauses as Harry's body is presented to them, and all Fleur feels is agony. Agony for the boy who rescued her sister, a boy she barely knew but knew he had a pure soul and a heart made of gold.

She almost gives up. Their hero is gone, so what is there left to fight for?

 _Plenty,_ Fleur thinks. There are still families who have been torn apart, innocents who have been murdered, deaths which need to be avenged. War is ripping this world apart and famine is ravaging the globe. The world is not just, nor is it perfect. The only impurity is the evil man who proclaims their evident defeat, his conquest of their lives.

There is still so much to be fought for.

And then Neville Longbottom leads the charge, and the world is hurled back into mayhem, but this time, the light side pushing forward.

And Fleur is proud to be a part of them.

* * *

She runs into Narcissa Malfoy during the battle. The two women stare at each other, vaguely identifying each other as on opposite sides.

Then Narcissa speaks, in a voice cracked with desperation, "Can you help me? Have you seen my son, Draco?"

Yes, she has caught a glimpse of him. But why should she tell her? She's on the enemies' side.

But she is a mother, and Fleur can understand that much. She points her in the right direction and Narcissa thanks her and hurries off.

Fleur stares after her and then turns back into the battle, wondering all the while: did she make the right decision?

In the end, she decides, it was the right choice, because there are some things that are precious to this world, and family is one of them.

* * *

 ** _584 words_**


	8. pick me up (before i fall down)(Scorily)

**Writing Club**

Character Appreciation - (word) Family **(Arthur is featured)**

Disney Challenge - A Whole New World - Write about a date that the characters don't want to end.

Showtime - As Long As You're Mine - (dialogue) "I've fallen under your spell."

Lyric Alley - 14. But I get a little lonely

Liza's Loves - Lavender Martini - Write about Lavender Brown

 **Other Challenges**

Play More Cards - Oh Hell - (dialogue) "Oh hell..."

Forty Days Challenge - No canon locations

Insane House Challenge - 89. (Pairing) Lily-Luna/Scorpius

Fairytale Week - Beauty and the Beast - (trait) Arrogant, (word) Enchantress, (setting) Ballroom **(bonus 5 points)**

* * *

Lily watches glumly as beautiful women in elegant gowns glide effortlessly through the ballroom, their partners occasionally spinning them around or dipping them low. Her mother is among them—she's blushing as Lily's father places chaste kisses on her freckled cheeks. She looks peaceful, contented, something Lily desires.

It's the ball commemorating the Second Wizarding War. Many of the couples out dancing on the floor are survivors. She sees Ron and Hermione Weasley smiling widely, Lavender and Seamus Finnigan sharing a sweet kiss, Neville and Hannah waltzing. As Lily observes, Neville twirls Hannah and the latter giggles as her plum-colored dress flies around her. She looks so dainty, so graceful; a perfect match for Neville's clumsiness.

Molly and Arthur are the only ones sitting, but the looks of pure enjoyment on their faces makes them blend in.

Everyone looks so young, like this ball had erased thirty years of maturing and growing.

Lily sips her wine. The expensive alcohol is less bitter compared to the taste of her mouth. She's alone, dateless, and it's blatantly obvious. She can feel, at this moment, two pairs of eyes boring holes in the side of her head. One belongs to Rita Skeeter, who Lily was certain was very disliked by the general public, so it's surprising she was even invited. But quite frankly, she doesn't give a damn.

The other is a boy who is about her age. She's seen him around, at Hogwarts and at functions, but she's never really interacted with him. All she knows is that he's a Malfoy, but that's all.

He's quite attractive. The Malfoys are a good-looking family, with the regal Astoria and the infamous Draco, and they have been a source of speculation for decades. Lily has heard many stories about them—how Draco was an arrogant and aspiring Death Eater, until he chickened out at the last second. Nevertheless, he was christened, though begrudgingly, a hero.

Lily discreetly tries to back into a corner. She doesn't need any rumors circulating about her and her love life. She and Teddy broke up months ago, and needless to say, things were sufficiently awkward until a few weeks ago, when they had decided to end the discomfort and become friends.

"Hello," says a deep, masculine voice and Lily starts, looking up into the face of the Malfoys' handsome son. How did he get here so fast?

"Hello," she squeaks and prays he can't sense her anxiety.

He doesn't, or at least he doesn't mention it. A true gentleman.

"You're Lily Potter, right?" he asks, his eyes traveling up and down her body. Lily is suddenly self-conscious.

"Yeah," she manages, "in the flesh. May I help you?"

He doesn't mock her lack of social skills. "I'm Scorpius Malfoy," he replies, his tone carefully neutral. "I think we met on the train in first year?"

Lily vaguely recalls that year, let alone a specific memory. "I think so, yes."

His eyes roam her body unabashedly. "You've grown a lot since then."

If anyone else was saying this to her, she would've called them a pervert and rudely requested them to leave. However, his words sent a pleasant sensation zooming up her spine and caused butterflies to erupt in her stomach.

"So have you," she responds, as an abrupt wave of confidence floods through her.

His eyes spark with interest. "Shall we dance?" he offered.

"We shall." She followed him as he made his way to the dance floor. They stand there uncomfortably for a few moments, before Scorpius extends his hand.

Next thing she knows, she's being swept across the dance floor and she's giggling like a lovesick teenager. She hasn't felt this feeling in _months_ —the safety of being in the strong arms of a good-looking boy.

However, there's something missing. There's a delicate silence lingering between them. Other couples banter; they're silent.

"So, uh, how's life?" she asks lamely.

"Up to a few minutes ago, pretty boring," he answers. "You?"

"Likewise."

"These balls have the potential to be fun, but boring if you're not with someone," he elaborates.

Lily cannot believe her ears. "I was feeling the same way!" she exclaims.

Scorpius chuckles. "We definitely have that in common." He studies her intently for a few moments. "Actually, Lily Potter, we have a lot in common."

She doesn't know what's more chill-inducing—whether he uses her full name, or what he said after that. "We do?"

His eyes focus on hers—pools of molten silver, brimming with seriousness. She swallows.

"We're both _extremely_ attractive," he murmurs, a grin pulling the corners of his mouth up.

"How arrogant of _you_ ," Lily drawls, her self-assurance increasing, "but thank you for complimenting _me."_

 _Internally, her insides are squirming with delight, but she can't allow him any satisfaction._

A mischievous sparkle enters his burning eyes. "Oh, so that's how you want to play," he mutters. "So be it."

"What're you gonna do, _Malfoy_?" Lily challenges, the flame of competition igniting in her.

"I'm going to challenge you to a _pick-up line_ contest," he shoots back. "Whoever wins gets, er..."

Lily smirks. "A favor," she purrs.

Scorpius ponders her idea. "You're on, _Potter_ ," he agrees. "Do you want to go first, or shall I?"

Lily's got one in mind already, so she volunteers, "I'll go. Prepare to lose, Malfoy."

"Whatever helps you sleep," he retorts.

 _Oh, it is_ so _on._

"If you were a dementor, I'd become a criminal just to get your kiss," she says smoothly.

"Nice," he says appreciatively. "Did you just use the Stupefy charm or are you a natural stunner?"

"Are you the Nimbus 2000? Because you're sweeping me off my feet."

"Are you an enchantress? Because I've fallen under your spell."

"I used to go to the Astronomy Tower to see stars, but now I can just look into your eyes."

"Are you using the Confundus charm on me or are you just naturally mind-blowing?"

"Oh hell, we could be here for a while," Lily sighs, cutting off the chain. "Why don't we get a drink first?"

(She was just about to hit her stride, but she's also craving a glass of something liquid. Alcohol has always served as her fuel.)

His white-blonde hair bounces a little as he nods. "Okay, but don't think that this over?"

"Never," she throws over over her shoulder.

(She hopes it never ends. The feeling of being with Scorpius, his witty humor, his shimmering eyes, it's a sight she never wants to forget.)

* * *

 **1,073 words**

* * *

 _ **I apologize, this story makes no sense. Nothing in this fic is canon. We all know Scorpius has a crush on Rose, and Astoria is dead, but just bear with me.**_


	9. my demons hide behind my eyes (Hinny)

**Writing Club**

Character Appreciation - (word) snake bite

Book Club - (character) Voldemort, (word) dark, (trope) amnesia

Lyric Alley - 30. My head is spinning and it won't bail out

Liza's Loves - 40. Mind Eraser - Write about someone being obliviated

 **Other Challenges**

Insane House Challenge - 660. Dialogue - "I won't leave you."

* * *

 **Warning for slight gore**

* * *

Harry still has nightmares.

Ginny tells him he thrashes around in his sleep, yelling and moaning. He wakes up drenched in a pool of sweat and sometimes, there are crescent-shaped imprints in his palms where his nails dug in.

He dreams of scarlet eyes and sinister voices, of flashes of green light and tortured faces. He can still hear Hermione and his mother screaming; it rings in his ears.

He's twenty and married and he has never been more happy in his life. Still, he's being haunted by memories past.

His past is inescapable. It's fate's way of tormenting him. He cannot live a life of peace and bliss.

It just so happens that he has a _really_ bad dream on the night of his honeymoon. He's having a vision where all of his friends and family are strewn on the ground, dead, and blood is spattered everywhere.

He wakes up with tears flowing down his cheeks and Ginny's hands gripped firmly on his arm, shaking him.

"Harry," she half-shouts. "Harry, calm down. It's just a dream."

Gradually, the sound of her soothing voice lulls him into a somewhat calm state. The tears stop falling and he finds comfort and warmth in Ginny's loving embrace.

"Don leave me," he murmurs, almost desperately.

"I won't leave you," she promises.

* * *

Voldemort still weaves in and out of his dreams. In one nightmare, he's confronted by a pair of ruby-red eyes and a chilling hiss. A snake lunges out from the darkness and he cries out in anguish as a searing pain shoots up his arm and fire blooms in his chest.

Then the snake bite's pain ebbs away, leaving a throbbing mark, and blood seeping out at an alarming rate.

He almost dies, if it weren't for Ginny rattling him awake.

* * *

The next one is not gory, but sends chills up his spine.

In this nightmare, he's participating in a tug-of-war. It would be fun, if he _wasn't_ the rope.

The light side tugs on one arm. Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and all of his loved ones, with a burning flame in their eyes, pull him towards the lighter side of the chasm.

The dark side, however, consists of the ones he hates. Everyone who he was not sorry to see dead, and then there's Voldemort, cackling madly.

"Let go of him!" Ginny roars, her hair streaming behind her as she yanks at his arm.

"No," Voldemort states coldly, baldly. "He's mine."

Ron's face is screwed up with effort. "He doesn't belong to you," he snarls. "You've done nothing good to him."

Harry's arms feel like they're going to rip away from his body. "Let go of me!" he screams.

Then all turns black.

* * *

Harry is sick of it. He wants the nightmares to end.

But how will they end? His past, no matter how much he runs, keeps up. There's no way he can escape.

Until it occurs to him one day.

Amnesia. Or at least, some form of it.

He asks Ginny to perform the spell one night before he goes to bed. No one's there to witness it, except her, who urges him to not go through with it.

He assures her it's only the bad memories being erased.

(He hopes.)

 _"Obliviate."_

* * *

That night, no nightmares plague him. He sleeps deeply, peacefully, something which he hasn't done in years, every since he was cursed with that scar. Which means most of his life.

The next morning, he wakes up feeling refreshed. He finally experiences an awakening where he isn't shivering or sobbing.

He racks his brain for memories. No green flashes. No scarlet eyes. Instead, he recalls the day he kissed Ginny for the first time. He doesn't remember the torment he was enduring at the time, the dilemma that was afflicting him.

It's all gone.

* * *

 **636 words**

* * *

 _I don't even...I sat down to write something fluffy, but my fingers decided it was angst time._


	10. rock my world (SeamusDean)

**Writing Club**

Book Club - Larry Underwood - (au) rockstar, (word) journey, (dialogue) "You're awful cute when you're angry, (Name)

Showtime - Wonderful - (object) balloons

Liza's Loves - Shamrocked - Write about Seamus' band - **(5 bonus points)**

 **Other Challenges**

Insane House Challenge - 584. Going to kiss someone on the cheek and they go in for the mouth

Forty Days - Only Gryffindors

Play More Cards - Rummy - Write a slash/femslash pairing

* * *

The anticipation starts to mount as the music increases in volume, drowning out the crowd's screams. Dean is among them, standing in the front, cheering as the band comes out on stage, grins stretched across their cosmetic-covered faces.

"Are you ready to rock?" the lead singer, Seamus, shouts.

The crowd roars in response.

"Good!" Seamus shouts. He strikes a chord through his guitar. Instead of reverberating through the arena, as it should, there is loud squeal. Dean, along with the rest of the crowd, covers their ears.

Then there's silence. A big, fat, awkward silence that accompanies a guitar malfunction reigns over the arena and Dean shuts his eyes as it pierces his ears, almost as loud as the guitar squeal.

"Uh," Seamus says, and Dean sighs. He gestures to his boyfriend on stage and mouths, "I'm coming."

Seamus nods. "Uh, apparently there is a faulty plug," he says hastily. "The concert will resume shortly."

There's a collective groan from the audience as Dean journeys backstage, where Seamus is conversing with his publicist and the person in charge of the music. He looks distinctly upset and the publicist looks harried.

"You're awfully cute when you're angry," Dean remarks as he strides towards his boyfriend.

Seamus chooses to ignore his comment. "This is so embarrassing!" he hisses, glowering.

"Relax, sweetheart, I'm sure it'll be fixed soon," Dean reassures, patting his shoulder in an attempt to calm him. "I mean, this isn't the first time this has happened."

(He's talking about the fiasco of '99, and he knows Seamus is thinking the same thing.)

"I hope so," Seamus answers wearily. "Otherwise Mum'll never let me hear the end of it."

Dean laughs. "Don't worry, I'll be there to support you. That's what boyfriends are for, right?" He leans in to press a kiss to his cheek, but Seamus turns at the last second and turns it into a mouth kiss, tongue and all.

"All right, we've fixed it!" A stage technician bursts in, face alight with glee, only to be greeted by the sight of their lead singer and his boyfriend snogging unabashedly.

The publicist clears his throat loudly and Seamus pulls away, his face crimson.

"Sorry," he mumbles and Dean chuckles, giving him one last chaste peck on the lips before departing from the wings.

(Seamus's smile is radiant as he appears onstage, and Dean revels secretly in the fact that it was _him_ that put that smile on his face.)

(As balloons are released into the air at the end of the concert, Seamus jumps off of the stage and plants a heated kiss on Dean's lips.)

(The girls are moaning, the boys are catcalling, and Dean has never felt more elated.)

* * *

 _452 words_


	11. remorselessness (Lucius)

**Writing Club**

Disney Challenge - Iago - "Sheesh, where'd you dig this bozo up?"

Book Club - Lloyd Henreid - (character) Lucius Malfoy, (setting) Azkaban, (word) trust

Showtime - No One Mourns the Wicked - (dialogue) "Take it away."

 **Other Challenges**

Play More Cards - Solitaire - Write about someone who wants to be alone

Insane House - 185. Location - Azkaban

* * *

Lucius doesn't like Azkaban.

No one does.

It's a fact he had just recently learned. The grimy cell floors, the broken chair, and overall, the general chill of the air, the dementors lurking just outside his window. He's cold day and night, and miserably cooped up.

(Basically, he's experiencing the opposite of what his luxurious life had provided him.)

At least Narcissa and Draco were at home, perhaps plotting a way to earn back the Dark Lord's trust. Or maybe Draco is sharpening up his dueling skills; he will need them soon, Lucius thought.

(But he is not there to help him. His wife and son are vulnerable without him. He is essential to their protection.)

* * *

Lucius gets a cellmate, or in other words, someone else who has to share his dingy, cramped cell with him.

It's a mousy teenager, probably thrown in for accidental magic or something minor. At the most, he'll be here for a few months, just as a little scare, and then he will leave.

His name was Alexander and he was home-schooled. He was a half-blood with a Muggle mother and a magical father. He was also very chatty, talking nonstop about his life and his family.

Lucius tuned out his nonsensical babbling, content to wallow in his misery. He almost snapped at the youngster more than once, but the fool kept chattering away.

(He didn't even stop for food, talking with stale porridge in his mouth. The sight was disgusting.)

"Will you be quiet?" he snapped one evening, fed up with the baboon's prattling.

His complaint fell on deaf ears. "But I haven't told you about the time my father and my uncle got into a duel!" he exclaimed excitedly.

Lucius sighed.

(When a guard gave them dinner, Lucius muttered, "Sheesh, where'd you dig this bozo up?" and the guard just shrugged.)

* * *

"Bring him to me," the Dark Lord commanded, and Lucius obeyed, dragging the prisoner to his master's feet.

"Remove the gag."

Lucius forcefully removed the gag and the man gasped for air. "Finally!" he rasped.

Lucius froze. He would recognize that voice from a thousand.

"Take it away, Dolohov," he ordered the man on the rightmost wall. The man slunk forward and raised his wand, crying, " _Crucio!_ "

And Lucius watched as Alexander's mouth opened in a wail.

* * *

 _385 words_


	12. these precious moments (i am a survivor)

**Writing Club**

Character Appreciation - Write about a man with red hair

Disney Challenge - Abu - Write about a faithful Pet

Book Club - Mother Abigail - (character) Albus Dumbledore, (emotion) pride, (word) survive

Showtime - Something Bad - (character) Newt Scamander

 **Other Challenges**

Insane House - 628. Creature - Bowtruckle

Forty Days - No romance

* * *

Albus tentatively cradles the Bowtruckle in his weathered hands, his cerulean eyes warm as he watches the creature cling on to him. It's a bizarre feeling, but one he can get used to. It's comforting, in a way.

"This isn't so bad," he says, stroking the Bowtruckle with one long finger. "What's his name?"

"Pickett," says Newt proudly, his eyes sparkling as he observes the two of them. "He survived the winter, but just barely. He had made a shelter at the base of an unusually shaped tree, hence his name."

"Clever," says Albus. "Where did you find him?"

"Norway." Newt sighs heavily. "Winters are bitterly cold there, and I reckon his family abandoned him. He's lucky I stumbled upon him before he died of frostbite."

"Very lucky," he echoed. "You've raised him nicely."

"Thank you." Newt extends his finger and Pickett hesitates before he clambers onto it, wrapping his thin arms around his callused finger.

"He bonds to people quite quickly," Newt comments. "I've never seen a creature get used to someone so fast, let alone become attached to them. It's a rare trait, but Pickett has never been ordinary."

"Yes, even unlikeliest of things can surprise you," Albus tacks on. "I once encountered a hippogriff in Sweden..."

As Albus delves into a long-winded story, with plenty of gestures and sound effects, Newt smiles and nods along. It's an enjoyable story, with many ups and downs, and Newt is nothing short of enthralled. Albus's stories are always fascinating, especially when involving creatures and his travels abroad. Albus has been to many places, even as far as Japan.

They are a good way into the story when Tina pokes her head in, a small smile on her face. "Supper's ready," she says. "Are you done catching up, or should I cover the food?"

"We'll be up in five," Newt says. "Albus was just telling me an interesting story."

Tina nods and withdraws her head.

"Now where was I? Albus asks.

"You were at the part where..."

* * *

 _336 words_

* * *

 **This makes no sense, sorry.**


	13. this feeling is undeniable (Kingsmerta)

**Writing Club**

Book Club - Ralph Brentner - (word) veteran, (character) Kingsley Shacklebolt, (plot point) being the first to notice something important

Showtime - One Short Day - (setting) Muggle London

 **Other Challenges**

Insane House - 395. Word - Fetching

Forty Days - No dialogue

Play More Cards - Old Maid - Write about Madame Pomfrey, Madame Rosmerta, or a House Elf

* * *

 **Warning for a mention of PTSD**

* * *

There are three things Kingsley likes in life: stability, quiet, and firewhiskey.

He frequents one particular pub, often to drink with friends or just to catch his breath. Being an officer is grueling, and sometimes all he needs is a drink to loosen up and relax.

The first few times he visits, she's not even there. There's a different woman there, who likes to flirt with him and wear provocative clothing. He is flattered in the beginning, but he realizes she does that to every guy who comes by.

Last he heard of her, according to the town gossip, she was fired by the owner for trying to lure him into bed.

 _Good riddance,_ Kingsley thinks happily.

Then there's the man who grumbles and complains about everything in sight. He's good-looking, so all the single women try to hit on him, only to flee the pub in tears. Kingsley himself barely talks to him, only to order and to pay.

The man, turns out, had PTSD and was a war veteran. He quits one blistering afternoon after a group of inebriated partygoers harass him. Kingsley has to arrest them all, but there are too many, so he has to call for backup.

Then, at last, comes the woman of his dreams.

He doesn't know that yet. Until he walks into the bar, sits down, and is greeted by a fetching woman with vivid blonde hair and a bubbly personality. She doesn't seem the least bit interested in flirting with him, but cheerfully asks him for his order.

Kingsley is astounded by her radiance. How could someone so beautiful work in a rowdy environment like this? She seemed too pure for this tavern.

He answers numbly, and the woman, oblivious to his stupor, disappears into the back.

His hands are clenched around the bar-stool's foot rung and it takes him a moment to realize that. He releases the tension and exhales, just as the woman returns.

She passes him his drink and as their hands touch, red-hot electricity shoots up his arm. The woman feels it too and she stares at him, dazed.

Kingsley knows it immediately. He's never felt this spark before, but he knows it's a promising one. One that ignites a fire inside of him and brightens his future.

He knows that he and this nameless woman are meant to be.

...

 _There are four things Kingsley loves in life: stability, quiet, firewhiskey, and Rosmerta._

 _..._

* * *

 ** _406 words_**


	14. there's hope for me (and for us)

**Writing Club**

Character Appreciation - 20. Write about someone poor

Disney Challenge - Poverty - Write a homeless!AU

Showtime - What Is This Feeling? - (au) Roommates

Count Your Buttons - (object) toothbrush, (song) "Take Us Home" by Alan Doyle

Liza's Loves - My Fair Lady - Write about someone trying to fit in with a different class.

 **Other Challenges**

Insane House - 208. AU - Flatmates

* * *

Remus is wandering the streets, his grubby nails tight around his worn rucksack. He has a few possessions- a battered watch, an extra shirt, and a filthy toothbrush, along with a half-empty bottle of water that he found lying on the street.

And then, he sees the flyer, partly crumpled and loose on the ground. It's a bright, blinding yellow and it catches his eye immediately when he rounds the corner.

He picks up the advertisement, scans the first few lines, and his eyes light up. There's hope in this rectangular sheet of paper and he clings to it like a lifeline.

* * *

The flat is not far from his shelter, so he washes up ten minutes before, changes into his extra shirt, and then treks to the building. Checking the time on his ancient watch, the minute hand is one tick away from noon. His stomach is growling with hunger, but he stubbornly ignores it.

The door opens at precisely noon and the handsomest man he has ever seen (which is a high compliment from him, seeing that he's been on the streets since thirteen and seen _plenty_ of people).

His silver eyes take him in with interest and Remus shrinks: he knows what words he's going to hear from his mouth - rejection.

And then, he surprises him.

"Hello," he says warmly. "Here for the extra room?"

Remus nods.

"Come in."

Remus shuts the door behind and glances around, his jaw slightly open. This flat is _fantastic-_ nothing like he's ever seen before. As the man takes him around the flat, his jaw opens a little more.

"It was one of the only flats I could afford. It's a bit cramped, but it has everything I need," the man says, somewhat correctly interpreting Remus's astonishment. "I hope you don't mind the mess."

It is a little cluttered, but it's quite clean compared to his current-hopefully former-living conditions.

"So, what do you think?" the man asks and Remus jumps.

"What is the rent?" he queries.

"It's covered." The man shrugs. "I just wanted a roommate. I don't really care about the expenses." As he says that, his eyes travel down Remus and the latter blushes: he's caught.

"I think...I think that's kind of you," he says sincerely. "If you don't mind, I'd like to move in right away."

"Perfect!" the man beams. "I'm Sirius, by the way."

"Remus."

As he shakes his hand, a bolt of electricity races up his arm and he almost gasps. Looking into Sirius's eyes, he knows it's the start of something beautiful. He can feel it fluttering in his chest.

It's hope.

* * *

 **437 words**

* * *

... _My stories make no sense anymore._


	15. i love you (despite your flaws)

**Writing Club**

Disney Challenge - Friend Like Me - Write about someone who has a huge personality

Restriction of the Month - (character) Professor Binns

Liza's Loves - Royal Duchess - Write an arranged marriage!AU

 **Other Challenges**

Insane House - 853. Trait - Vain

* * *

 _For Sammy, who is totally awesome. Here's some LuciusBellatrix. Happy belated birthday!_

* * *

It happens in History of Magic.

Professor Binns drones on about the seventeenth century at the front of the classroom. The Ravenclaws are furiously scribbling on parchment, the Gryffindors fast asleep, and the Hufflepuffs playing games.

The Slytherins, meanwhile, are bored out of their minds. Lucius Malfoy, in particular, has a frown on his face.

A ball of parchment hits the back of his head and he turns, scowling. Bellatrix Black sits there, an irksome grin on her face. Lucius shoots her a haughty look and unfolds the parchment.

 **Why the frowny face, Luci? Did something not go your way?**

Lucius raises a groomed eyebrow. _Don't be juvenile, Bella. It's unbecoming of you._

 **Well, since I'm already betrothed to you, how would that be unbecoming?**

They exchange insults back and forth, while their housemates look on.

 _You're insufferable._

 **You're conceited.**

 _You're high-and-mighty._

 **That's rich, coming from a boy who threw a tantrum just because Mummy didn't send him enough allowance money.**

 _There's the intolerable person I was referring to. If I recall correctly, you weren't exactly pleased when your mother didn't give you a Christmas present._

 **Bugger off. You whined for an hour last Christmas when your parents didn't send you that hair-grooming kit or whatever. Spoiled, if you ask me.**

Lucius sighs. He knows Bellatrix is baiting him and he wants to be the better person and not give in, even though she's asking for it. But the competitor inside him wants to not back down, because if he forfeits, that means victory for her. Lucius doesn't like being a loser, especially not to his future wife.

 _Well, that reminds me of the time you spent a term's amount of money on a hideous dress and it didn't even impress Rodolphus._

Ha! That should shut her up.

Except it didn't.

 **What about that time you tried to seduce Cissy and she ran away screaming?**

Lucius rubbed his temples. He wanted to turn around and give her a piece of his mind, but he risked earning a detention.

 _All right, all right, enough of this childish note-passing._

 **Are you admitting defeat?**

 _Nope, but this is going too far. You don't want to get a detention and ruin your precious locks do you?_

 **...Oh the irony. Fine. But this isn't over.**

 _Love you._

 **Love you too.**

* * *

 _385 words_

* * *

Just to clarify, Bellatrix and Lucius are betrothed. Bella dated Rodolphus and broke up with him, while Lucius had a brief affair with Narcissa and then left her as soon as he found out he was engaged to Bella.


	16. if you burn (so will i) (pansyhermione)

Written for...

 **Writing Club**

Character Appreciation - Protecting family/a loved one

Showtime - I Move On - (theme) Write about being fearless

CYB - (song) Self-Inflicted by Katy Perry, (AU) Dystopian!AU, (object) Matches, (character) Pansy Parkinson, (word) Kill

Lyric Alley - Do you know the line that I'd walk for you?

Liza's Loves - Horrificator - Write about being trapped

Sophie's Shelf - passion, sweat, squirm, thrust, sublime, fierce

 **Other Challenges**

Jewel Challenge - Ring: Write about someone who people are naturally drawn to, Bracelet: Write a fic set on a battlefield, Necklace: Write about someone who could do with a little less stress in their life

Caffeine Awareness **-** Iced Coffee - Write a story set in the summer

Crafty Cooking - Sambuca - (AU) Dystopian

Quilting Appreciation - PansyHermione

Insane House - 563. Plot Point - Being kissed unexpectedly, mid-sentence

* * *

 _"You have witchcraft in your lips." -William Shakespeare_

* * *

When they meet, hell is raging. There is heat emanating from the blood-red sun, the acrid scent of smoke in the air, but nothing compares to the blistering heat of the townspeople's eyes. They want her dead, merely because she is different. Merely because she channels magic.

Hermione struggles against the burly men manhandling her, but her efforts are futile. They drag her to the pole set in the middle of the chaos, tether her at the top, and the mayor steps forward, striking a match. The crowd roars as he does so.

 _Down with witches!_ they chant. _Kill them all!_

The mayor unhesitatingly lowers the lit match to the pyre and it combusts into flames and heat hits her feet, licking the soles of her shoes.

Hermione shuts her eyes, resigned to her inevitable fate.

 _This is it. This is how I'm going to die._

And then the world explodes.

.

Pansy's thrusting through the crowd, her eyes set firmly ahead. One of her kind is on the brink of death, and Albus has sent her on a mission to singlehandedly rescue Hermione. One might say she is insane for trying to take on this angry mass alone, but she has a driving force; something invigorating.

She has a secret. She loves Hermione Granger with a pulsing passion. She is sublime, with a fierceness in her eyes paralleled by no other. She makes Pansy sweat and squirm simultaneously with her unmatched brilliance. She is clever, she is beautiful, yet here she is, being persecuted for being unique, and with no means to defend herself.

And Pansy is not one to leave her loved ones impotent, not if she can do something about it.

She watches as the pyre beneath Hermione's feet bursts into flames. In her hazy, panic-stricken mind, she racks her brains for a plan.

She can't think. Smoke the air, burning her nostrils. Hermione's death is looming closer and Pansy clamps her hands over her ears.

A stroke of genius strikes her. _Time to fight fire with fire. Literally._

 _"Incendio,"_ she mutters and the hay bales around her erupt into flames. No one notices her or the fire at first; they are too occupied with screaming at Hermione.

Pansy slips her wand back into her dress, cups her hands around her mouth, and shouts frantically, "Fire! Fire!"

The air carries her message and soon the crowd glances in her direction. She points to the fire.

Sheer pandemonium ensues. As the blaze spreads, the crowd disperses, yelling out with alarm. No one notices the girl sneak out of sight, a smirk etched on her lips.

"You came," murmurs Hermione as Pansy extinguishes the flames and unties her. She stands, relief painting her features.

"Why shouldn't I?" Pansy grunts. "Enough chit-chat, we have to escape before-"

Even in the face of danger, there's an ardent look in Hermione's eyes, which softens into something else when she realizes something. "Wait."

Before Pansy can protest, Hermione tilts Pansy's chin up and kisses her, hard and fast.

Pansy freezes. Hermione's lips taste salty and metallic, an unpleasant taste, but Pansy doesn't mind, especially not when the love of her life.

"Thank you for saving me," she whispers as she pulls away, in Pansy's opinion, too quickly. Considering the situation at hand, however, she should've known it wouldn't have lasted. Still, she's left in a daze.

"Now lead the way," Hermione orders, a faint smile lingering on her lips.

* * *

 _575 words_


	17. our potential play (LysanderRoxanne)

Written for...

Insane House - 262. Scenario - You're my theatre department rival for this lead but we got cast as love interests instead

Writing Club - Roxie - (character) Roxanne Weasley

Writing Club - CYB - (character) Roxanne Weasley

Library Lovers - The Sweetest Taboo by Carole Matthews - (AU) Actor/Actress!AU, (Relationship) Best Friends, (Item) Dress

Scavenger Hunt - Write about Roxanne Weasley

Quilting Appreciation - Lysander/Roxanne

* * *

"Romeo Montague, Lysander Scamander," the cast manager declared.

Roxanne clapped a hand to her forehead and groaned. "Of course it _had_ to be him," she moaned.

"Shh," Lily hissed, her eyes fixated on the cast manager. "He's about to announce who's Juliet!"

"...Juliet Capulet is Roxanne Weasley...Mercutio Montague is James Potter..."

Lily stifled a giggle as Roxanne groaned again. "Of course," she mumbled. "I have to perform with him. Great. Just swell."

" _And_ you have to kiss him," Lily reminded her with an ample amount of amusement.

Roxanne almost fainted.

...

"Okay, cut!" the director huffed, looking exasperated. "Weasley, Scamander, you're supposed to be in _love,_ not be _repulsed_ by each other. Weasley, you need to act like lovesick maiden. Scamander, you need to look at her like she's the only person in the world. I need to see some _passion,_ some _sparks_ between you two. Let's try this again, from the part where Romeo first sees Juliet."

Roxanne sighed, resisting the urge to tug at her itchy, starched collar. The dress she was wearing was inspired by the Elizabethan Era, with a ruffled collar that would've made Queen Elizabeth envious. The dress had a tight bodice, in stark contrast to the skirt, which ballooned out around her waist and covered a quarter of the stage. It was extremely difficult to move around in, and every time she inhaled she felt like something was constricting her chest.

Lysander, meanwhile, was clad in a silk doublet and a stretchy pair of leggings. In distinct juxtaposition, he looked quite comfortable, which irked Roxanne even more. He looked obnoxiously smug about it, too.

She ground her teeth, determined. She was going to outperform that conceited bastard even if it killed her. She hadn't won Best Actress in her highschool for nothing.

It took her a moment to realize that Lysander had already launched into the scene, about midway through his monologue. With a start, she recognized a key line that meant he was approaching the end.

"...To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss," Lysander finished, his voice containing a hint of self-satisfaction, his hand steady as it gripped her own. His hand was warm and smooth.

Roxanne mustered up what little admiration she had for him and allowed it to blossom on her face. She could tell the results of her expression right away; Lysander blinked, surprise flitting through his eyes, but he quickly composed himself.

"Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much," she declared passionately. "Which mannerly devotion shows in this, for saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss."

There was a moment of silence in which Lysander stared at her, gobsmacked, and Roxanne smiled sweetly, reveling in her mini-success.

 _Take that,_ she gloated.

However, an almost evil, yet deceptively affectionate grin appeared on his face. "Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?"

"Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer." She could almost read his mind and apprehension settled inside her.

"O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do. They pray; grant thou, lest faith turn to despair."

"Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake." Her anticipation was growing, her heartbeat increasing.

"Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take."

And then, he leaned in and Roxanne's eyes fluttered shut as he placed a chaste but prolonged kiss on the corner of her mouth. His lips were soft and his breath tickled her cheek. She could feel his own heart rapidly beating and dare she say it, they were both enjoying the feeling.

Roxanne felt him move away after a few moments, a few moments too soon. They had appearances to maintain, but secretly her insides were squirming with joy. She already missed his lips; their next kiss couldn't come soon enough.

But luckily for them, there was another kiss a few lines later and this time, Roxanne's eyes stayed open, gauging Lysander's reaction. His eyes were serenely closed and his breathing was hard.

 _He likes it._

A blush spread over her cheeks and a warm feeling overwhelmed her chest.

 _This is...strangely nice. I could get used to this._

* * *

 _697 words_


	18. the colors i can't change(DracoGabrielle

Quilting Appreciation - DracoGabrielle

Crafty Cooking - Salt - Letter fic, parchment

Insane House - 949. Style - Letters

Writing Club - Disney Challenge - Flotsam and Jetsam - Write about Crabbe and Goyle

Writing Club - Book Club - Celia Hendricks - (character) Draco Malfoy, (word) petty, (color) green

Writing Club - Liza's Loves - Pixelator - Write about a fan (of a celeb)

* * *

Gabrielle stares at the parchment. It's blank, waiting for words to be scrawled onto it.

So many emotions are coursing through her, all ineffable. How will she ever put them on parchment?

She takes a deep breath and presses her quill to the parchment.

 _Dear Draco,_

 _Excuse my English; it might be inconsistent. Whatever meager English they taught at Beauxbatons was not enough, so I purchased a dictionary to aid me._

 _I wanted to contact you after the war to offer my sympathies. I know you'll start scoffing, because I have no idea of what happened to you and what you're going through. And you're right, I don't._

 _I barely know you. I've had only one conversation with you. And that was three years ago during the Triwizard Tournament. You were a petty bully back then. You bullied Harry Potter and his friends but you were green with envy at his heroism. But this war has changed you in many ways. You've matured into a respectable man. And frankly, it's attractive._

 _As creepy as this sounds, I've been staring at pictures of you in the papers, wondering where time has gone. It's pretty enigmatic, time. Time can shape you into a better person, or it can be break you down into a shadow of yourself. It can age you physically, but you can remain young at heart. Time does a lot to everyone, including me._

 _I may sound like a fan, but I'm not. What I feel is genuine. You can laugh at me, you can ridicule me, but I'm not taking what I wrote back. It will forever be preserved on this parchment._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Gabrielle Delacour_

 _PS: Please feed Charise right after you read this letter. She can get a bit temperamental if she doesn't get rewarded quickly._

She seals the letter in a crisp envelope, addresses it to him, and sends if off with her owl.

She knows there's a chance he won't reply or even open it, but she's not someone to give up. She'll keep persisting.

But she doesn't have to. Two days later, surprisingly fast, she gets an answer.

 _Dear Gabrielle,_

 _I sat here at my desk for a little while, wondering how to respond. You're an intriguing person. Your English is superb for a French native-speaker._

 _You're right, I was a bully. I had two lackeys, Crabbe and Goyle. I regret it. It came back to bite me later, and I am indebted to Harry Potter, a position I don't like to be in. Every time I see him, a little part of me, the part from my childhood, cringes. Never in my wildest dreams had I thought I would owe my life to Harry Potter. But I accept it. I wouldn't be alive had he not saved me._

 _Thank you for your sympathy. It means a lot when people offer me their condolences, but I am past that now. My past is the past. You're right, time does shape someone. My past has helped me grow from my mistakes, and now I have locked it away._

 _I haven't talked to you a lot. But you're an interesting person, Gabrielle. I would sincerely like to meet up with you in the future._

 _Regards,_

 _Draco Malfoy_

She only has a few words to write.

 _Draco,_

 _When are you free?_

 _Gabrielle_

Less than two days later-

 _Gabrielle,_

 _I'm free this Saturday afternoon. Let's meet at Fortescue's at four. I assume you know where it is?_

 _Draco_

Her response is swift-

 _Yes, I do. Can't wait._

This is the start of something promising, she hopes. She isn't someone to give up; she is more of a persister.

* * *

 _610 words_


	19. i take lives (and your heart) (permione)

Quilting Appreciation - PercyHermione

Writing Club - Showtime - Cell Block Tango - (action) Murder

Writing Club - CYB - (AU) Cop

Writing Club - TV Show of the Month - Buffy Summers - (character) Hermione Granger, (item) axe, (AU) Slayer

Writing Club - Liza's Loves - Rogercop - Write a police-officer!AU

Insane House - 78. Pairing - PercyHermione

* * *

 _Warning for murder_

* * *

Another cop dead. Percy pulls the ax out of his chest. This was an easy murder; this cop was an amateur and he put up no fight.

"Good work," says a gruff voice, his boss, Thrasher. "Now let's be on our way. I suspect he pulled an alarm to alert his buddies; they'll be swarming the place in minutes. Let's go."

Percy casts another look at the dead officer and follows his boss. His hands are clean, but they feel bloody.

* * *

The sound of a siren wailing makes Percy's head throb. He's running on little to no sleep and bright lights and loud noises make the pounding in his head more painful.

With one foot he hits the brake and with the other he discreetly slides the ax farther back under his seat. He digs through his glove compartment for his wallet, which contains his license and money.

The cop approaches his car and Percy plasters a smile on his face, only for it to falter slightly when he recognizes her.

The cute officer who he _might_ have taken a fancy to has a stern look on her face. Her curly brown hair is glittering in the late afternoon sun and she walks with a confidence that only looks attractive on her.

He's yet to learn her name, so that's why he deliberately speeds more often. Most times, he isn't caught, but whenever he is, coincidentally it's her who catches him.

"Hello, Percy," she greets him politely, a thin smile on her face. Percy's smile widens.

"Hello, Officer," he murmurs, lowering his eyelashes, his voice husky.

It has minimal effect on her. "Speeding again?"

He tries a different tactic. "Only to see you," he says flirtatiously.

This time, she flushes a little. "Oh, be quiet," she mutters. "Show me your license."

Here's his opportunity. "I will if you agree to go out with me."

There's a definite blush on her face now. "Just show me your license, Percy. I don't have all day."

"Just one date?" he pleads, employing his puppy eyes. "I promise, it will be worth your while."

" _Percy,"_ she whines.

"Please?"

"Fine," she consents. "But as a forewarning, don't try to assault me, okay? Otherwise you will find a chair leg up your behind faster than you can say your name."

She doesn't who he is or what he does. She doesn't know he's the assassin, the slayer on the loose. But he isn't inclined to hurt her.

"I won't," he promises.

* * *

 _415 words_


	20. beauty inside and out (siriuscharlie)

Quilting Appreciation - SiriusCharlie

Crafty Cooking - Carrots - Charlie Weasley

Insane House - 979. Emotion- Proud

 **Writing Club**

Character Appreciation - (character) - Sirius Black

Showtime - When You're Good to Mama - (object) Basket

Days of the Month - Smart and Sexy Day - Write about Sirius Black

CYB - (object) Motorbike

Liza's Loves - Guitar Villain - Write a Rockstar!AU

* * *

The sleek motorcycle roars to a halt and a handsome man climbs off of it, his hair windswept. His boyfriend, with scars marring his face but looking ages younger in the sunlight, greets him.

"Nice ride," Charlie says, grinning as he gestures to Sirius's motorbike. "I'm assuming this is what we're taking now to the book fair?"

"You bet." Sirius smiles brilliantly. He cups his hands around Charlie's cheeks and pulls him in for a scorching kiss, tongue and all.

Sirius can do _wonderful_ things with his tongue, but just as Sirius's hands slide under his loose dress shirt, there's a wolf-whistle across the street. A group of young boys are staring unabashedly at them, awe on their faces at catching rockstar _Sirius Black_ with his tongue shoved down his boyfriend's throat.

"So much for the secrecy," Charlie mutters, his face a trademark Weasley red. "So, shall we go?"

Sirius is watching the boys across the street. "Not yet. I think those boys want my autograph. I'll be back."

* * *

Whispers follow them as they enter the library. The librarian nearly faints when Sirius introduces himself. When she recovers, she winks and leans forward. Charlie clears his throat and steps forward, his smile strained.

Charlie stays beside him as he graciously signs autographs and takes selfies with star-struck fans. Instagram and other social media platforms must be blowing up right now, he thinks wryly.

He even takes a few photos himself. Many people are interested in him and his background. He is somewhat a celebrity himself- not international as Sirius, but a local one.

He observes from the back with fondness as a little girl in a wheelchair starts crying and hugs Sirius tightly. She can't be a little more than seven or eight and disadvantaged, but she has the brightest, most priceless smile on her face despite the tears.

For lunch, Sirius has brought a basket full of treats. Everyone gorges on them happily, but after lunch is when the _real_ fun begins.

After lunch, the storytime begins. The little children watch, fascinated, as Charlie reads books aloud and Sirius acts them out. He does a spot-on imitation of Goldilocks, which makes everyone laugh.

When the visit is over, Charlie and Sirius pry the children from their bodies and head outside. Night is falling.

"You were _incredible,_ " Charlie murmurs into his boyfriend's mouth.

Sirius pulls away with a teasing smirk on his face. "Careful, there are innocent eyes watching," he says.

Charlie laughs.

His boyfriend is _brilliant._

* * *

 _417 words_


	21. never give up (this isn't over)

Quilting Appreciation - OliverPercy

Insane House - 364. Word- Beleaguer

 **Writing Club**

CYB - (dialogue) "I can't take this anymore.", (character) Oliver Wood

Restriction of the Month - (emotion) doubt

A Year in Entertainment - Book: Northern Lights/The Golden Compass by Philip Pullman - (word) Dust

* * *

The dust settles. It is the boy with horn-rimmed glasses and the brokenhearted expression that catches his eyes.

Percy Weasley. The boy who betrayed his family for the Death Eater-infiltrated Ministry, who finally discovered where he truly belonged: with his family, only to have one of them ripped away. The boy who is smart, levelheaded, but sometimes irrational.

The Great Hall is teeming with survivors, whether students or teachers, giants or Hogsmeade's inhabitants. But he has eyes for only one.

He's aching, he's beleaguered. He wants nothing more than to collapse into bed, which he knows is probably destroyed. He has to console the mourning, honor the dead.

But wearily, he trots towards Percy and his grieving family, all of which are crowded around Fred's corpse.

"It'll be okay," he murmurs in his ear. "You'll be okay."

But even he doesn't believe those empty words.

* * *

Percy doesn't know what happiness is. It died along with Fred.

And then Oliver's there, during the ceasefire, to comfort him and give him meaningless consolation. Nothing can take away this pain. _Nothing._

He wants to lash out, he wants to tell him _you have no idea what I'm going through._ But that's not true. Everyone is suffering from something. Everyone has a dead loved one. The gravity of it is overwhelming.

And then Oliver whispers, "Come with me."

* * *

"I can't take this anymore!" Percy bursts out as soon as they leave the hall. "Fred's dead, Harry's dead, everyone's dying. When will this be over?"

Oliver has nothing to say. He wants to sympathize with Percy. He can. Colin is dead, he had to carry his body, and the weight still hasn't left his arms, even though Colin's body lies back in the Hall.

"We're going to lose," he finishes miserably. "Even though we have the numbers, no one has any spirit left. It's all lost, Oliver."

His brown eyes glimmer with sadness, and that's when Oliver speaks.

"Shame on you," he says coldly and Percy looks up, shock flashing in his eyes. "We're still in this. We haven't lost. Harry isn't dead. He's a fighter, and he won't die unless it's necessary. And there's always something to fight for. Look around you."

Percy looks around.

"See the destruction? What about the parents of future generations of magical children? What about the people who still call it home? They have something to fight for. The teachers, the students, everyone has a reason to fight, even if it isn't personal: they want to protect this school."

Percy stares at him for a few moments. Oliver is confident his pep talk worked, and that is proven as Percy grabs the collar of his shirt and hauls him in for a fierce kiss.

"This is why I'm glad you're my boyfriend," he murmurs into his mouth.

* * *

 _468 words_


	22. sunny with a chance of dates

Quilting Appreciation - HannahSusan

Writing Club - Liza's Loves - Stormy Weather - Weather-Girl!AU

Crafty Cooking - Butter - (word) forecast, (emotion) delighted

* * *

"And here is weather girl Hannah Abbott, giving today's forecast," the newscaster announced.

"Look, look, she's on!" Justin calls to Susan, who comes running out of the kitchen.

"Hello viewers!" says Hannah, a cheerful grin on her shy face. Susan plops onto the couch and watches with rapt attention, not noticing Justin's smirk.

"Today is going to partly sunny, which is a rarity during monsoon season," Hannah declares. "But tomorrow, the rain is returning with a vengeance. The river levels are going to rise, so if you live close to a body of water, I'd advise you to stay inside. Do all your shopping today and stock up for the rest of this week, because it's going to be raining until Saturday afternoon."

Susan feels a prick of disappointment, but the forecast doesn't matter to her. She is more fascinated by the girl on the screen, who is showing the Doppler Radar with a cute smile.

"She's _adorable,"_ Susan murmurs with awe.

"Someone's in _lovvvve_ ," Justin drawls.

"Shut up." A scarlet flush spreads across her cheeks, but she doesn't deny it. "You have no room to talk. You're enamored with the newscaster, Daphne."

Now his face matches hers. "You _hush._ "

Susan smirks, but her attention is quickly diverted as Hannah gets to the part she's been looking forward to for a long time- the birthdays.

"Happy birthday to Poppy Pomfrey!" Hannah says jovially. "I know her personally. She's a wonderful nurse and a dear friend of mine. Next up-"

She rattles off a list of names and Susan's heartbeat increases as she waits with mounting anticipation.

"And finally, happy birthday to Susan Bones!" Her face appears on the screen. But what's this- Hannah's _blushing?_

"She's very special to me," she confesses. "I normally wouldn't admit this on local TV, but I can't work up the nerve to tell her in person- I have a teeny crush on you, Susan. If you're interested, I would love to have coffee with you sometime."

Susan nearly falls off of her seat. Justin gapes.

"Holy- what the-"

Susan doesn't answer. She picks up the phone, dials a number, and a cranky voice picks up.

"Hi, I'm Susan Bones," she begins, and she doesn't need to elaborate, because the operator is wide awake.

"Mm-hmm, yes, I would like that," Susan says. "Is she free now? Okay, perfect."

Hannah's phone rings at that moment, as she closes the telecast, and she answers it. "Hello?"

"I'm Susan Bones," she says shyly. "And my answer is yes."

Hannah's face lights up. "She said yes!" she screeches, and everyone around the community screams too.

Susan, meanwhile, has a delighted grin on her face.

Her dreams came true.

* * *

448 words


	23. soup with a side of theatrics

Written for: Quilting Appreciation - DracoMolly, Crafty Cooking: Apple - Character: Draco Malfoy, Dialogue: "I'm just going to miss you so much when I die." / "You literally just have the flu.", Insane House - 667. Dialogue - "Are you flirting with me?" / "You wish."

* * *

 **Since DracoMolly, is downright difficult to write, I aged up Draco so he's around Molly's age.**

* * *

"I'm just going to miss you so much when I die," Draco croaked, having just recovered from a coughing fit. "I'll miss your cooking and your weird brand of obstinacy. Your sarcasm, your mollycoddling, the combination of you hogging the duvet and snoring loudly at night. I'll miss it all."

Molly sighed, stirring the soup in the pot. "You literally just have the flu," she snapped. "It's not a life-or-death disease. You'll live."

"Such hurtful words, Molly," Draco pouted, wrapping his blanket tighter around him. "Your unkind remarks are only worsening my sickness."

"Yeah, well, I have soup for you, so stop complaining young man," Molly shot back, scowling. "Just zip your lips shut."

A lewd smirk crossed his lips. She didn't like the look on his face one bit.

"Are you flirting with me?" he purred, his seductiveness hindered by his congested nose and sore throat, so it sounded like a dying bear.

Molly disguised her chuckle as a snort. "You wish."

"I do wish, Molly," he murmured, dropping the octaves of his voice so it sounded more husky and alluring.

Molly groaned. "Please don't do that," she pleaded. "You know I can't resist you when I do that. And if I kiss you, I'll get ill."

Draco shrugged. "So what?" he said dismissively. "We'll be sick together."

"Who's going to earn money then, hm? Who's going to take care of the kids?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Molly, you're not poor anymore. We can just withdraw money from Gringotts if needed, and we have a million friends we could Floo or owl and ask if they can babysit until we're better."

Molly still didn't relax. "But we're just dropping our workload on others," she argued.

Draco stifled a sigh. "Remind me why I married you? Because I can't recall it through all the waves of stubbornness I'm receiving from your end."

"My exceptional cooking."

Draco laughed. "Love you Mols."

"Love you too, Drakey."

"I thought we agreed to stop calling me that!"

"Yeah, but it's cute. Especially when you get flustered like that."

"Because it's a terrible nickname! Merlin so help me, I will start calling you 'Molly-boo'," he threatened.

"Then I'll call you 'Snakey-Drakey'," she retorted, waving the soup spoon so drops of soup went airborne. "Or sweetie pie."

"Pumpkin."

"Honey."

"Sweetheart."

"Muffin."

Draco coughed. "Woman-who-needs-to-give-me-soup-or-else-I'll-die," he rasped.

Molly resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "It's just the flu!"

* * *

 _402 words_


	24. true love has no boundaries

Written for...

 **Crafty Cooking** \- Steak - (trope) Marriage Law, (word) Rare

 **Insane House** \- 105. FredHermione

 **Library Lovers -** Every Heart a Doorway by Seanen McGuire - (word) statue, (characters) Twins, (color) black

 **Writing Club**

Character Appreciation - 2. Item - Glasses

Showtime - And All That Jazz - (word) Brawl

Days of the Month - International Ask a Question Day - Write a what if

CYB - (pairing) FredHermione

Lyric Alley - 11. We're gonna be higher, up

Liza's Loves - Time Breaker - Alt: Write about twins

* * *

"This is just in. I have received word from an undisclosed source that the Ministry has passed a new law concerning marriage. The Ministry has ordered that each pureblooded unmarried wizard be wedded to a Muggleborn. This law has been put into place to prevent stillbirths and squibs produced from purebloods intermarrying and also to preserve family names, I hear. To make this process simpler, the Ministry has developed a list of potential matches..."

* * *

"I found your match today, Fred." Arthur set his briefcase down on the table. Molly looked up from the stove with interest.

"Do I know her?" Fred questioned immediately, halting his spoon's course to his mouth. "Was she in Hogwarts? Is she pretty?"

"Woah, woah, calm down, son, I'll answer you in a second," Arthur said, holding up his hands in surrender. He pulled up a chair and sat, pouring soup into his bowl with a ladle, finally adjusting his glasses. "You know her very well, actually. She did go to Hogwarts, two years younger than you."

"And is she hot?"

"Merlin, Fred, is that all you care about?" Ginny snapped from the other end of the table.

"Yeah, Fred," piped up another voice, Ron. "You're so shallow."

"That's rich, coming from _you,_ " George loyally defended his twin brother.

"Fred, George," his mother warned, waving her wand. Dirty dishes floated over to the sink, narrowly missing Fred's head.

Fred slumped in his seat. "I despise you both," he muttered, shooting a glare at his youngest siblings, and stared morosely at the statue-like gnome perched outside their window.

Ginny smirked.

"Anyway," continued Arthur, undeterred, "she's someone you know _quite_ well. Brown hair, Muggleborn, exceptionally gifted and intelligent...does that ring any bells?"

Ginny's spoon fell into her empty bowl with a _clatter._ "Is it...?" She looked at her father with an unspoken question in her eyes and he nodded, his own eyes sparkling.

"Who is it, Gin?" Ron wanted to know.

"Oh, I think it's best if Dad tells you." She grinned and marched out of the room, leaving five _very_ baffled Weasleys.

"Dad?" Fred looked at his father, utterly bemused.

"Fine. I can't keep up the suspense any longer." Arthur leaned forward.

"It's Hermione Granger."

 _"What?"_

* * *

"So this is...sufficiently awkward." Fred kneaded his toe on the carpet.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Excellent detective work, Sherlock," she deadpanned.

Her date looked at her, confused. "Who's Sherlock?"

"A fictional Muggle detective," she explained. "It's complicated."

"Oh." He smiled. "He sounds cool."

Hermione smiled. "He is. He is a skilled detective who solves homicide cases, usually not without brawling. He has a partner, John Watson."

"So is this a book or..."

"There are both novels and films," she elaborated. "The books are better though, in my opinion. Gives you a scope of the characters."

"Well, maybe you should bring them by sometime," he said, almost shyly.

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Fred Weasley, reading? I thought you'd never opened a book in your life."

"No I haven't. Don't tell anyone about this, but I read for fun," he whispered conspiratorially. "If anyone found out, my life would be ruined."

Hermione stifled a chuckle. "Your secret's safe with me."

* * *

"You look really beautiful," Fred murmured lovingly, brushing an awry lock of hair out her eyes. "That dress...Merlin, _wow."_

She blushed. "Thank you," she mumbled demurely, smoothing down the black satin.

"Now, are you ready to go on the awesomest date ever?"

"Bring it on."

* * *

"And do you, Frederick Weasley, take the Hermione Granger to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do," he said firmly, gazing into his beloved's eyes.

"And do you, Hermione Granger, take the Frederick Weasley to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do," she answered, her eyes brimming with love.

"Then I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss-"

But Fred had already swept her into his arms and pressed a long, sweet kiss on her waiting lips. There was the sound of rousing applause as they kissed blissfully, and when they resurfaced, flower petals were showered over them.

Hermione giggled as Fred scooped her into her arms, bridal style, and walked down the aisle, gazing into her eyes with affection. This was a rare marriage not purely founded by the Ministry, but by true love as well.

That's how they were made for each other.

* * *

 _718 words_


	25. a good place to start

**Crafty Cooking -** Onion - Era: Marauder

 **St. Patrick's Day** \- The snakes of Ireland - write about a Death Eater

 **Writing Club**

Character Appreciation - 28. Era- Marauder

Book Club - Cliff Ackerly - (trait) popular, (word) bully, (action) tripping someone

CYB - (dialogue) "Did you drop this?"

* * *

"Well, well, look who it is," sneered Mulciber, deliberately tripping Lily so that both she and her book were knocked to the floor. "It's Mudblood Evans. Taint anyone lately?"

Lily stood up, glaring at her adversaries. "What happened to your girlfriend?" she inquired coolly. "Did she realize how much of cheating, lying scum you are?"

Muciber scowled menacingly. "Shut your mouth, filthy Mudblood. You have no room to talk to your superiors like that!"

Lily hotly opened her mouth to retort, but another voice interjected, "What's going on here?"

Both parties spun around and Lily tensed. It was James Potter, notorious troublemaker and king of the school, flanked by his posse, the Marauders.

"Potter," Mulciber muttered, suddenly quieter. "Nothing's going on. It's just Mudblood Evans."

James's eyes swept over her, scrutinizing her from head to toe. Lily stared back at him, defiant. No one could undermine her.

"Evans?" he queried at last, turning back to Mulciber. "She is a Muggle-born, but that doesn't make her any less than you or me."

Lily's jaw dropped, as did the rest of the audience's. James Potter, standing up for her?

"Even though her blood isn't pure, the rest of her is," he continued, an underlying challenge in his voice, as if he were daring Mulciber to question his authority. "And if you have an issue with that, you'll have to answer to me and my mates. That goes for all Muggle-borns."

Lily, dare she say it, was _flattered._ She had never talked to James Potter in her entire life, and yet, here he was, standing up for her and her fellow Muggle-borns against bullies like Mulciber.

Mulciber looked mutinous, but under the heavy glares of the Marauders and Sirius cracking his knuckles, he didn't dare. Instead, he shot Lily a venomous look and stalked away, his own companions mimicking him.

"Did you drop this?"

Lily looked up, and emerald met hazel. James Potter held out her textbook, a genial smile on his handsome face.

"Yes, I did." Lily straightened and took the book, flushing slightly.

"It's not a problem," he said, leaning down so his lips were level with her ear. "You know, I always thought Mulciber was a git, so this justified my opinion."

Lily giggled, her cheeks heating up. James Potter threw her a wink and departed, leaving Lily flustered and her heart pounding.

He might be not so bad after all.

* * *

 _401 words_


	26. all i want (is to see you tomorrow)

**Writing Club**

CYB - (dialogue) "You know that we will.", (pairing) EdgarFabian

 **Others**

Crafty Cooking - Thyme - Job: Detective

Insane House - 218. AU - Detective

* * *

"Your mission, if you choose to accept it, is to spy on the bestselling author Edgar Bones..."

"Why do I need to spy on an _author?_ Isn't that like, the least-suspicious profession?"

"Because I said so!" Moody slammed his hands on the table and inhaled sharply, both real eye and glass glaring at him.

"Now, listen up, Prewett," he hissed. "We have reason to believe that Bones is the target of the homicide group currently in London. You're a senior detective and the best in the business, which is why I assigned you this case. You need to keep an eye on his home, make sure there is no questionable activity occurring in his neighborhood. If the gang gets within a kilometer radius, I want you to call for backup. You clear?"

"Crystal, except for one thing. How am I going to spy on him? I can't live in his bushes or anything."

Moody just about banged his head on the table with exasperation. "Use your head, Prewett!" he barked. "The government has allowed us to take up residence in the currently empty house across the street from his. In other words, you'll be neighbors!"

* * *

Fabian looked around his new (albeit temporary) home. It was mostly unoccupied, save for a few pieces of furniture, but otherwise felt _lonely._

Who was he going to talk to the next few months, or however long he was here? Or was he was going to have to resign to total isolation?

Moody hadn't said no to outside communication, so Fabian set himself a new goal: he was going to become friendly with his neighbors. It didn't hurt to have a few friends.

(As long as he was wary.)

* * *

Fabian knocked on the door of Edgar's stately home, his one arm supporting a platter of cookies. The house appeared to be more massive than the other houses on that street, but Fabian guessed he had renovated it to reflect his salary.

There was the sound of footsteps padding down the stairs and then the door opened, simultaneously with Fabian's jaw.

"Hello," said the man, who seemed to just have rolled out of bed, if his bed-head and slightly slouched posture was any indication. In Fabian's opinion, it makes him look even more attractive.

"Hullo," echoed Fabian, the word tasting dry on his tongue. "I'm Fabian, your new neighbor?"

He didn't mean for it to come out as a question, but what is he to do in the face of such handsomeness?

 _This is the man I'm going to protect..._ Suddenly, he felt very, very thrilled.

His brown eyes widened with sudden alertness. "Oh! I'm Edgar," he said, holding out his hand to shake. Fabian took it awkwardly, as his other arm was engaged with the cookies.

"Likewise," Fabian replied, much more bravely than before.

Edgar smiled, and then, his eyes darted to the platter of cookies. "Are those..." he sniffs the air "...chocolate chip cookies?"

"Yup! My mother's famous recipe," Fabian bragged.

Edgar picked up one of the cookies and deposited it in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "Mmm, these are delicious!" he said in between chews.

Fabian grinned. He liked this man. "You know, I have a feeling we're going to get along."

"You know that we will." Edgar smirked, swallowing, and Fabian swore his heart rate increased. "I mean, you make amazing cookies, I write books, how do they not match?"

Fabian laughed, his chest swelling with hope. If he's going to spy on someone, he'd rather it be this man.

* * *

 _587 words_


	27. family doesn't end with blood

Crafty Cooking - Irish Stew - Write about a family.

Caffeine Awareness - (dialogue) "Family doesn't end with blood."

 **Writing Club**

Character Appreciation - 27. word: bibliophile (James is featured)

Disney Challenge - Ariel - Write about being able to have both family and love.

Showtime - Razzle Dazzle - (phrase) Hocus Pocus

Restriction of the Month - (word) officious

* * *

A family is defined as two things:

1\. A group of people living under the same roof and share the same surname.

or

2\. "Family doesn't end with blood."

You pick.

But for James, it was the second one.

* * *

 _I. The Marauders_

The Marauders were the first true friends James ever had.

Bold, charismatic, Sirius was the very first of James's friends. Their personalities clicked, their interests and goals similar, but their lives- very different. While James grew up pampered and adored, Sirius was raised in a family where there was no room for error. A tightly-knit, snobby bunch who believed in the highest pureblood ideals.

In other words, it was not his cup of tea. Maybe that's why they connected, because they despised that kind of lifestyle.

Shy, clever, bibliophile Remus was the next of his extended family. He was a lonely soul who was an outcast because of an accidental incident in his childhood. He was cursed to be a loathed creature forever, but James felt he didn't deserve that and it wasn't his fault. He merited a fair shot at an education and a career.

And lastly, Peter, the boy who seemed gullible but had the purest heart. He was the quietest, even quieter than Remus, and when he did speak, he spoke gibberish which Muggles sparingly called _hocus pocus,_ and that made him a prime target of bullies. James and his friends took pity on him, and as a safety precaution, accepted him into their group.

And that's how James discovered blood doesn't define a family.

* * *

 _II. Lily Evans, eventually Potter._

Lily Evans was _special,_ to say the least.

She was James's opponent, the flame to the match that was just waiting to be ignited. She was the one person who seemed to get under James's skin, the one person who was _better_ than him, and she knew it.

And instead of condemning her for it, it only increased his admiration of her. Even she annoyed him to no end, her officious remarks provoking him to the point of no return, it made him delirious for her. He craved her attention, her words, even though it stung.

She loathed him, at first. His arrogant swagger, his cocky attitude, his constantly untidy hair, it all irked her to the point where she specifically picked fights with him to criticize those flaws.

But then, she became his _family_.

Someone who he would die for.

* * *

 _III. Harry Potter_

James thought he had it all. His beautiful wife, his best mates, everyone he could possibly need.

And then came Harry. Harry, with his chubby cheeks and his mother's eyes, born with mischief and mayhem in his heart, but also innocence.

Harry was a beacon of light in a dark time. He was a temporary reprieve of his parents' worries, and he brought more light to their lives. He was sweet, adorable, and won the hearts of anyone who met him with just a single smile.

Harry was everything.

* * *

 _498 words_


	28. run away (for love)

**Writing Club**

Amber's Attic - 9. I suppose I love this life, in spite of my clenched fist.

Book Club - Media - (word) pleasant, (plot point) waiting for someone, (word) offer

Showtime - Light Romance/Madman - write about a secret relationship.

Days of the Month - Find a Rainbow Day - Only feature queer characters or pairings

Count Your Buttons - (song) "Who Wants to Live Forever" by Queen, (AU) Maid/Butler, (dialogue) "Did anyone see you?", (pairing) GinnyPansy, (word) burn

Lyric Alley - What if there was still a way of taking care of this?

Audio Admirations - Denim Cut-Offs - Plot Point: A character is gay.

 **Other Challenges**

 **Easter Bingo - 3**. Word: Scandal

 **Going, going, gone** \- word: shiny

 **Gobstones Club -** Green Stone: Secrecy. **Extra Prompts:** Accuracy- (word) Blooming, Power- (pairing) PansyGinny, Technique - (word) Shiver

* * *

"I've been waiting for you."

Ginny halts at the sound of the voice. _Her voice._ The perfect combination of honey and ice oozing off her tongue, a tongue Ginny is all too familiar with.

Next thing she knows, a hand grips her hand vice-like and yanks her into a closet. The door shuts behind her and all Ginny can see is darkness.

And then a body presses against hers, and warm, chapped lips slam into hers, and Ginny _burns._

Her touch is like electricity, setting her blood aflame. Their bodies writhe together, and all she can register is _Pansy,_ her pulse, her perfume, her _everything._

"Did anyone see you?" A hot breath ghosts her ear.

"Nope," Ginny breathes.

Pansy kisses her again, hard and fast, and then she retreats into the darkness, leaving Ginny suddenly cold.

"I wish you weren't a maid, or I wasn't royalty." Her voice is rough, but it drips with passion. A pleasant feeling blooms in Ginny's chest.

"Me too," Ginny mumbles. She slides her back down the wall and lands in a seated position. "It would make things so much easier."

And then Pansy stands swiftly, a gust of air blowing in her wake. "Let's run away together," she offers.

Ginny's eyebrows raise, shock coursing through her. " _Run away?"_

"Yes, run away. Let's run as far, far away as we can from here." Pansy's hands grip her face and tilt it up, and Ginny can make out two shiny orbs of silver, and she shivers.

"We can find a place to live, just the two of us, no reputations involved. We can live happily, in love, with no one scoffing at our relationship."

Ginny wants to say yes. She really does. But there are so many questions unanswered.

"What about my family? They'll be in trouble if your parents find out I ran away with you. They'll think I kidnapped you."

"I'll take care of it," Pansy promises. "Now, what do you say? Will you run away with me?"

Ginny still has qualms. It'll be a scandal if anyone finds out, but she can't say no. She can her the Pansy's earnest, and believes they can find what she believes.

Happiness.

"Yes."

* * *

 _365 words_


	29. falling from blue skies

**Writing Club**

Disney Challenge - (quote) "If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day so I never have to live without you."

Amber's Attic - 12. I'd write love poems to the parts of yourself you can't stand. I'd stand in the shadows of your heart and tell you I'm not afraid of your dark.

Book Club - Easter: (event) picnic, (dialogue) "He's blushing!", (object) flowers

Showtime - I'm Not Saying A Word - dialogue: "I'd just say 'I love you' if it was me."

Days of the Month - World Wish Day - Write about a wish coming true

CYB - (pairing) TeddyVictoire

Lyric Alley - You get me every time

Audio Admirations - King Falls - Word: Fall

Sophie's Shelf - The Ingenue - Task: Write about an innocent female.

 **Easter**

Bingo - Style: Third Person

Build a Bunny - Color: Pink - (flower) rose

Guess the Name: Whisper - Teddy

* * *

 _"If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day so I never have to live without you." -Winnie the Pooh_

* * *

"I'd just say 'I love you' if it was me."

Teddy sputtered, his face turning a vibrant shade of scarlet. "I don't—that's mad—"

James grinned crookedly, flipping idly through his playbook. "You know you love Vic. Don't deny it."

Teddy sighed, his shoulders falling. "She's just so— _perfect_."

"Concrete evidence right there," James pointed out. "Just do us all a favor and tell her. I bet you a week of chores she'll say the same thing back."

Teddy pulled a face. "Why are you offering to do a week's worth of chores? Isn't that something you hate doing?"

"Yeah, but it'll be worth your happiness and hers." James's face softened. "I don't mind."

* * *

He needed a plan. A _brilliant_ plan.

This time around, he was with Dominique, Vic's sister, who had a boatload of information about her. She was the best person to go to to ask for guidance; she knew her sister better than anyone.

"What should I do?" he asked, pacing the length of her room, his hands clasped in front of his stomach. "What does Vic like?"

"Just go with your instincts," Dom advised. "But I'll give you a few tips: romance her the old-fashioned way. Flowers, compliments, picnics, et cetera. And also, she hates pink. Thinks it's a cliche color. If you want to give her flowers, choose any other color but pink."

Teddy nodded tersely. "Anything else?"

Dom pondered for a few moments. "Nope. You've got a free reign otherwise."

"Perfect." He sighed heavily, several thoughts marinating in his head.

He had an idea. But how to bring it to life?

* * *

He went with a picnic, like Dom had suggested. A traditional picnic he had asked his adopted mother and his Aunt Hermione to cater, which they did with tremendous pleasure. They too, like James, had been hoping for them to get together.

 _("He's blushing!" Hermione hissed gleefully to Ginny after he had left. "I think it's for real this time.")_

Now, Teddy was waiting in a meadow with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. Seventeen red roses, to be precise. One for each year he had known her.

There was a loud _crack_ and Victoire appeared, looking harried. "I"m so sorry!" she gasped. " _Maman_ was fussing over me, saying I had to look perfect, even though—"

Her azure eyes settled on the roses. Teddy held them out to her bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck with his other hand.

"These are for you," he said.

"...Thank you." Her hand was warm. Teddy's hair turned a bright pink.

"Y-You look really p-pretty," he stammered.

" _Merci,"_ she replied, her smile blinding. Teddy felt his heart rate increase. He's falling, falling fast.

Oh _Merlin._ Her smile did things to him that he could not put words to. It was a balm for his heart, yet it set it aflame. It filled him up with the warmth of the sun and the ice of winter.

 _I love you,_ he wanted to say. _You're absolutely perfect and I love you._

"So, shall we begin?" Vic's silky voice, laced with nothing but pleasantness, jerked him away from his thoughts.

"Of-of course."

* * *

Their "friend-date" was going about as well as expected. Vic's smile was full of nothing but sunshine, and it was all for him. Subsequently, a nervous lump formed in his throat.

 _James might be right after all..._

"Are you having fun?" he asked.

"Of course!" She pushed back a lock of her strawberry blonde hair.

He swallowed back the lump lodged in his throat. "Listen, I didn't ask you to come out here with with intention of staying friends," he said solemnly. "I mean- I still want to be friends, if you want to, but I want to be more than that."

Vic was silent, studying his face, her eyes unreadable.

"Vic, the thing is- I love you."

Her mouth doesn't move, but her eyes ignited, and that's all the answer Teddy needed.

"I love you, Victoire Weasley," he repeated. "I love you so much. You deserve the best, and I don't know if I live up to that standard-"

"Don't you _dare_ say that," she retorted, her eyes flaring. "I love you too, and you are most certainly the person I want to be with."

Teddy doesn't need any more confirmation. He leaned forward as Victoire does, and fireworks explode behind his eyelids as their lips met.

It's the start of something new, something _amazing._

(And as a bonus, James has to do his chores during the week.)

* * *

 _753 words_


	30. when i see you again

**Writing Club**

Character Appreciation - Character: Lee Jordan

Disney Challenge - Write about someone looking into their past, to find out where they came from.

Book Club - Laura Moon - (word) cold, (color) gold, (time) nighttime

Showtime - My Child - write about long lost twins/separated at birth

Days of the Month - Sibling Day - Write about siblings

CYB - (AU) Hacker

AAA - Twims - Plot Point: Write about twins.

Lo's Lowdown - Write about a complicated sibling relationship.

 **Other Challenges**

 **Easter Egg Hunt -** 43\. Fred/Lee

 **Easter Bingo -** 51\. Color: Green

 **Guess the Name -** Peanuts - Fred

 **Couple Appreciation -** Emotion: Excited

 **The Room of Requirement**

National Siblings Day - Fred and George

* * *

"When I type in the code, we'll have successfully breached the government's database," Lee explained, his gold eyes glittering with anticipation. It's nighttime, which brings out the rich color of his eyes even more.

"We'll have precisely two minutes to find your brother's file and record as much as we can. Are you ready?"

Fred squares his shoulders as if he's preparing for a battle. He is, in a way.

Lee types rapidly and a new window pops up, a search bar at the top. Fred reaches around him to enter his brother's name.

His brother's identical, smiling face, and wearing a green shirt, is the first result. Fred takes a deep breath and clicks his name. His face lights up.

And he begins to write.

* * *

His eyes scan the perimeter. A sea of faces swim in front of his eyes, but he's searching for one.

His own face.

He spots a man with red hair and brown eyes and cups his hands around his mouth. Then he drops them right away.

It's not him.

 _Where is he?_

And then, his spirits rise as he spies his own face. His heart sings, because he's _finally there and he's finally going to meet him in person._

"George!" he calls, waving his hands frantically. "George!"

The red-headed man spins around and his eyebrows lift with confusion.

Fred beckons him. "It's me, Fred!" he shouts over the din.

A wide grin splits his face. "Fred!" He fights through the crowd. "Is it really you?"

Euphoria courses through him as they are reunited, as his brother's arms engulf him.

He's home at last.

* * *

 _300 words_


	31. starting fresh

**Writing Club**

Character Appreciation - Word: Mischief

Book Club - Mr. Ibis - (action) writing, (au) author, (trait) talkative

Showtime - That Guy - write about feeling insecure

CYB - (AU) Celebrity

Lo's Lowdown - Peggy Carter - write a female in a male dominated profession.

 **Other**

Auction - Character: Hermione

* * *

Hermione's browsing through the _Fiction_ section of the library- a place she doesn't frequently visit, because she's more partial to nonfiction - when a handsome stranger starts looking next to her. From her peripheral vision, she can tell he has red hair and freckles, but nothing else.

She can't turn around and look, because that would be outright _weird,_ but her curiosity grew as did the funny feeling in her stomach at his close proximity. He smelled _heavenly-_ like cookies and pie. Not necessarily a manly scent, but intoxicating all the same.

He reminded her of her ex, Ron. The same shade of red hair, the freckles. They could be taken for cousins, maybe even brothers.

He was definitely more handsome though, infinitely more. He's more rugged and has a mischievous look about him.

How could she gather all this information from a single look? She was just good at reading people.

It was then he tapped her on her shoulder.

"Excuse me, ma'am," he said politely, "you're blocking the whole aisle."

It was also then she received her first real glance at him.

"Sorry," she said and angled her body sideways so he could pass by.

He didn't, however.

"Excuse me, but do you happen to be Hermione Granger?" he asked.

She nodded shyly. "Yes, I am. How do you know my name?"

His eyes sparkled with amusement and Hermione flushed. Of course he knew her; her face was plastered all over London ever since she had released her new book.

"I don't think I need to answer that," he said, tapping his head. "But I just wanted to say that I absolutely admire you and your books. They're both phenomenal!"

Hermione's face, if possible, reddened ever more. She didn't know what she was more flattered by- his admiration of her, or her work.

"Er, thank you," she replied, her skin hot. "That's very, um, nice of you."

"My pleasure." He took a deep breath and grinned nervously. "It would also be my pleasure if I could take you out sometime. On a date. You're really pretty and smart and intriguing and I'd like to get to know you better."

When Hermione didn't respond right away, he clammed up. "I'm sorry, you barely know me and I'm okay if you say no-"

Hermione didn't know what she was thinking, but she smiled demurely and said a resolute, "Yes. I'd love to go out with you. But I still don't know your name."

"It's Fred." He inhaled sharply. "Fred Weasley. You may know me as your ex's brother."

* * *

 _427 words_


	32. you look wonderful tonight

**Writing Club**

Book Club - Mama-Ji - (color) blood red, (object) jewelry, (word) goddess

Showtime - Secrets - object: locket

Days of the Month - Husband Appreciation Day - Write about a husband

CYB - (object) wallet

 **Others**

Auction - Character: Lily Evans

Couple Appreciation - James/Lily

* * *

Valentine's Day.

A day of romance, love, and friendship.

Lily Potter wanted to knock the socks off of her husband this Valentine's Day. She was going to treat her husband to a date he would never forget. She had booked the most expensive restaurant in town, which was extremely hard to come by, but with an influential surname like Potter was bound to get you places.

It was going to be the best date she had ever planned, and the _only_ date she had planned. Therefore, it had to be the best.

She dressed in the slinkiest number she owned, a blood red deep v-neck dress - yes, she wanted to seduce her husband - her fanciest jewelry, including the locket James had given her two Valentines' ago, and five inch stilettos.

When James saw her, he drooled. Literally. He looked dapper himself, in a handsome suit and tie combination.

Everything was going well.

That is, until James lost his wallet.

"I told you three times!" he said frustratedly as he combed through the room in pursuit of his missing wallet. "I put it down somewhere and now I don't remember where it is."

Lily glanced at the time on her battered watch and cursed. Their reservation was in ten minutes, and it was at least eight minutes walking. If they didn't leave now, they would be late.

"Babe, I have some cash in my purse," she assured her husband desperately. "Now can you-"

"Wait!" James forestalled her with a wave of his hand. "I know it's around here _somewhere_."

Lily groaned.

* * *

James eventually found his wallet, and they practically sprinted through the narrow streets to get to the restaurant.

(Lily had been wearing stilettos, so that experience had _not_ been fun. At least she looked pretty.)

Unfortunately, since they had arrived too late, their reservation had been given to another couple. Which meant they were forced to trek home, James carrying Lily since her feet were _killing_ her and because he knew it was his fault for ruining their date.

Now, they were cocooned up in blankets and watching a movie, chomping on popcorn. This was not Lily's ideal Valentine's date, but it was better than nothing.

"You know, I'm really sorry for spoiling our date," James murmured after they were a few minutes into the movie. "It's a shame it didn't happen; you looked bloody _ravishing_ in that dress.I could've sworn you were the goddess Aphrodite herself."

Lily giggled. "You looked dashing as well, love. And the whole evening wasn't wasted. I don't mind doing this."

"Good." He pressed a kiss to her cheek. "And actually, I have something I was meaning to give you after the date. S'pose now is a good time."

He dragged himself out of the blankets and disappeared into the back of the house, Lily wondering what possibly he could be fetching. And then he returned.

"For you, my love," he said, presenting a heart-shaped box, presumably with chocolate inside.

Lily gazed at the box for a few seconds, then glanced at her husband.

"You're the best husband ever."

* * *

 _514 words_


	33. it's (not) dark inside

**Unicorn Day - N -** Notter (Harry/Theo)

 **Auction -** Dialogue: "I didn't summon a demon." / "Then what did you summon?" / "An asshole."

* * *

 _Forewarning: this makes no sense._

* * *

Harry curses as he pricks his finger on the his knitting needle. A pearl of blood leaks out of his finger, staining the carefully knitted cloth he was working on.

"Bloody hell!" he swore (pun unintended). "Curse the person who invented knitting needles!"

There's a flash of light, a gust of wind, and Harry nearly falls out of his chair. He almost swears some more, his mouth opening, and then rapidly closes it as a man appears.

The man doesn't bother introducing himself. "I invented knitting needles," he says disapprovingly.

Harry faints.

.

When he comes to, the spirit-like thing is still there, his dark eyes glittering with a faint hint of amusement.

"Finally," he sighs. "It took _ages_ for you to wake up."

"What happened?"

"You summoned me," the being states, matter-of-fact. "You said 'curse the person who invented knitting needles' and beckoned me to your...residence."

"...Oh." While Harry is still discombobulated, his mind is registering _some_ of what the spirit is saying. "So, you're like, a demon or something?"

"Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner," the demon says dryly.

Harry glares at him. "Oh excuse me for not recognizing you, because I obviously _do not_ have demons regularly appearing in my home!"

"Oh." The demon scratches his head. "Oh, I forgot that little detail."

Harry rolls his eyes. "I didn't summon a demon."

"Then what did you summon?"

"An asshole." Harry grins triumphantly.

The demon wilts, sulking childishly. "Now, now, there's no need to be so hurtful," he pouts.

(Harry thinks he looks rather cute with a pout.)

"You deserved it." Harry withholds a smile as the demon's pout deepens.

"Aw, you hurt my feelings," he says. "Too bad, I was going to say that you are the most attractive man I have met. The most attractive man that knits, that is."

Harry sputters and heat rushes to his cheeks. "Wh-What?"

"Now you made me feel bad, so now I have to take it back."

(That sneaky demon.)

(The ball's in his court.)

"I hate you," Harry shoots. There's a sudden pressure on his mind.

"No, you don't." The demon's eyes bore into his own. "I think you find me attractive as well."

With great will, Harry pushes the presence out of his mind. At the same time, the demon's eyes widen.

"You can read minds," Harry accuses.

"Astute observation, Potter," the demon remarks sarcastically. "But no one's ever been able to push me out of their mind so quickly before. You have a special talent."

"No fair! You know my name, but you haven't deigned to tell me yours yet."

"Fine, but only because I like you." He holds his eyes. "My name is Theodore, but you can call me Theo."


	34. if you love them (let them go)

**Writing Club**

Disney Challenge - Rabbit - Action - Stamping your foot.

Amber's Attic - 24. It takes a hell of a lot more muscle to stay than to go.

Book Club - Whiskey Jack: (word) fraud, (dialogue) "I'm not fighting for another lost cause.", (beverage) beer

Showtime - Gypsies in the Wood - word set: lost, paranoia, three, mother

Lyric Alley - Lost and gone so fast

AAA - #RedRumRoses - Word: Invitation

Lo's Lowdown - Natasha Romanoff: word: manipulative

 **Other**

Auction - Title: if you love them let them go

Unicorn Day - Red Dragon - Charlie/Draco

Scavenger Hunt - Write a gift fic for one of the following people: Bex (DobbyRocksSocks of Slytherin), **Shay (ipsa dixit of Gryffindor)** , Laura (Someone aka Me of Hufflepuff), Lin (MarvelGeek42 of Ravenclaw), or Sophie (Screaming Faeries; a nomad) -

* * *

 _For Shay, who is a total Chaco nerd. Love you, darling, and I'm very, very sorry._

* * *

"Draco." Lucius Malfoy stares at his son, his grey eyes flashing. "Sit down."

Draco stares back, unflinching and defiant. Nor does he move.

 _"Sit down,"_ his father repeats more firmly.

Draco takes three steps back and half-falls, half-sits into the wooden chair behind him. The cold bars burrow themselves in his back and send chills down his back.

His father's eyes are equally as chilling. Ever since his mother died, his father has fallen into a void. He is lost, but he is more violent.

"You need to stop seeing Charlie Weasley," Lucius states bluntly.

Draco almost topples over. Paranoia and shock courses through him in a flood. _"I'm sorry?"_

"I think you heard me clearly enough the first time," he says frigidly. "That Weasley is nothing but a bad influence on you."

"And you are?" Draco retorts by default. "Give me one valid reason why he isn't good for me."

Lucius purses his lips in a tight, thin line. "I will not have that kind of disrespect targeted towards me, especially in my own home."

" _Your home?"_ Draco laughs derisively. "Last time I checked, this was _my_ house. The Ministry gave it to me, remember?"

Lucius opens his mouth to argue, but Draco cuts him off. "I don't want to hear anything about the Ministry's "idiotic polices. I'm not fighting for another lost cause," he says. "All I want to know is _why_ in the name of Merlin do you want me to break up with Charlie?"

"He's a Weasley," Lucius says stiffly. "That should be reason enough."

Dead silence follows his statement.

Then " _Oh Jesus Christ."_

Followed by an explosion.

"I cannot _believe you,_ father!" Draco shouts, stomping his foot, his angry voice reverberating through the room."When are you going to let this bloody prejudice go? The Weasleys are perfectly good people! If that's your reason, then I'm most _definitely not_ breaking up with him."

His father draws himself up imperiously. "Fine, stay with him, but you brought this on yourself."

Draco's curiosity piques. "I'm sorry?"

"Either you leave him," he continues, "or he'll be thrown in Azkaban."

The ground beneath Draco caves. _No._ Those words did not just come out of his mouth.

Lucius takes his shocked state as an invitation to carry on. "Your so-called love has been caught smuggling dragons from western New Zealand into Australia, despite their anti-dragon laws. He has been sentenced to two years in Azkaban."

Draco gulps audibly. He knows Charlie is a risk-taker, but smuggling dragons...that's a serious offense.

"But," he presses on, "I have an inside source telling me that he can get Weasley out of his punishment. You see, his daughter has fallen in love with him, and he is willing to let Weasley go in exchange for his daughter's hand. Therefore, if you choose to leave him, he'll be wedded to that man's daughter."

Draco wants a sinkhole to open up under his feet and swallow him whole. "So...you're saying it's a lose-lose situation for me?"

"However you want to see it," his father replies placidly.

Draco hesitates. If he doesn't break up with Charlie, his boyfriend would be cast in prison. But if he left Charlie, the consequences would be equally severe. Not only would he lose the love of his life, but to another person.

His father is fraud, he thinks bitterly. A good-for-nothing, manipulative fraud.

"Has Charlie agreed to this?" he asks desperately.

 _That_ seems to temporarily wipe the smug look off of his father's face. "Ah," he says, swelling down, and that's all the indication he needs.

"He doesn't know?!"

"But his fate is sealed either way, depending on the choice you make. It's all up to you, son."

Draco's mind spins, looking for a loophole.

He can't find one.

(He really needs a beer.)

His throat closes as he makes his choice.

It's for the best, he tries to convince himself. He steels himself.

"I choose to go to Azkaban in his place."

* * *

 _661 words_


	35. i've never felt this before

**_Auction - Restriction: No using "and"_**

 ** _Unicorn Day - Obscure Loyalties (Sev/Reg)_**

 ** _Scavenger Hunt - Write a fic about a non-canon Marauder era pairing or triad_**

* * *

Severus is not weak.

He is anything _but_ weak.

He is evil, yes. He likes dark magic. He takes pride in torturing people. Filthy Mudbloods, in particular. He has a soft spot for Lily Evans, his former best friend.

But that all changes when Regulus Black is sorted into Slytherin.

* * *

"SLYTHERIN!" the Hat declares. Tiny Regulus Black, with his mop of scruffy black hair, totters over to the table decorated in green with hints of silver.

No one is surprised. Regulus Black is from the Blacks, after all. All the Blacks have ended up in Slytherin, with the exception of Sirius Black. Said Black is sitting at the Gryffindor table, looking remotely interested.

Bellatrix immediately scoots over, welcoming her cousin with open arms. Regulus's young face brightens with glee at the honor of sitting next to his famed cousin.

Severus observes the young boy with interest. He's cute, in a childish way, but he has so much to learn, despite his pureblood upbringing.

 _This is going to be fun._

* * *

As Severus grows, so does Regulus. But there's a huge difference.

When Severus grows into a lanky, underfed, sullen teenager, Regulus becomes... _much, much more._

As Severus hates to admit it...all right, he's too prideful to admit it.

But the girls aren't.

A multitude of girls, regardless of their house, are vying for his touch. His kisses. His smoldering look.

He goes on dates. He snogs girls. He sleeps around.

Yet, he doesn't look happy.

But who is Severus to care? He doesn't meddle in the affairs of others, especially such tawdry ones.

Yet...

* * *

He doesn't know he has it until it hits him like a train.

It takes him ten - no, thirty - minutes to move after it hits him.

Severus is rooted to the spot. When someone asks him what's wrong, he makes an indistinguishable series of sounds.

 _No. He isn't weak._

He likes Regulus Black.

* * *

 _300 words_


	36. there's something about her

**Unicorn Day - Catnip - Minerva/Pomona**

 **Auction - Pirate!AU**

* * *

If Minerva had to describe her family in three words, she could.

Those three words?

They were prestigious, strict, and affluent.

* * *

Her father was a lord in the highest court, while her mother cooked and cleaned and mothered their two children.

And then all of sudden, everything went downhill from there.

* * *

Her father was tried and convicted of treason against the crown. He was thrown into jail and suddenly, the McGonagalls' source of income was suddenly cut off.

Their seemingly endless supply of money depleted rapidly as her mother struggled to pay taxes, buy necessities, and maintain the household. She was forced to take a job in order to support her remaining family.

Minerva was sixteen when they finally ran out of money.

* * *

She was walking to work when she saw _it._

It, being an opportunity.

Minerva, though poor, was exceptionally pretty, and she caught many eyes when she strolled through town. She was a sight to behold for men, and women envied her looks and her natural charm and how she carried herself, her head held high despite her status.

If being rich once had taught her something, it was to never look defeated.

Minerva entered the tavern with her suitcase in hand, which contained many... _revealing_ items. She was about to head inside to change when she encountered someone.

Or rather, was accosted by.

It was a regular which Minerva loathed. He had sandy hair and ocean blue eyes, the typical "windswept beach" look. Girls fawned over him and his dashing looks and he was never spotted around town with a girl on his arm.

However, he only desired one. Her.

Minerva bit back a biting remark as he stepped in her way and leaned in to her ear. He reeked of stale tobacco and alcohol and sweat shone on his brow.

"Minnnnie," he slurred, his putrid breath invading her nose. "Carree for a drink?"

"No," replied Minerva shortly, attempting to sidestep him. Instead, she collided with his chest and reeled backwards as if she had been burned.

"Come on," he cajoled, "one drrink won't hurrt."

"I said no," Minerva retorted, her temper rising. "Now move aside."

The regular's face twisted into an ugly sneer. "You worthless whore!" he hissed, though it was loud enough for all of the bystanders to hear. "You ungrateful slut! You should be on your knees."

(He's only coherent when he wants something, she reflects dryly.)

She opened her mouth to give him a piece of her mind, when one of the bystanders stepped forward.

"Leave her alone!"

The man took a step back. Minerva turned, about to thank her savior.

And saw no one.

"You have no right to harass a woman like that," the voice continued. Minerva glanced around, as did her assailant.

"Down here," the voice said sharply.

Both looked down. And Minerva felt surprise arouse in her.

It was short, stout woman with curly gray hair tied up in a bun and a neat white coat rolled up at the sleeves. She had a stern look upon her weathered face and fiercely glared at the man.

"Now, if you could kindly leave the premises," the woman snapped, "or I'll have you arrested."

The man mumbled something under his breath and stalked away.

(Or rather, inelegantly stumbled away.)

The woman took a few steps towards Minerva, the fire in her eyes changing to concern. "Are you okay?"

Minerva, for once in her life, is struck speechless.

"Sorry about him, he can be a pain in the arse sometimes," the woman continued. "I'm Pomona, by the way. Pomona Sprout."

"Minerva." She regained her voice and smiled at her warmly- or with whatever warmth she could muster.

"I apologize for him again," Pomona repeated. "He can be a tad aggressive."

"You think?" Minerva quipped without thinking and the whole audience laughed, including Pomona.

"You're a funny woman, Minerva." Pomona looked her up and down and suddenly, Minerva was aware of a heat flaring up on her cheeks.

"Can I offer you a drink?" the short woman asked. "As acquaintances, of course. I have nothing but good intentions in mind."

It's Minerva's turn to survey her.

Pomona is an interesting woman. Minerva felt like she could trust her.

She nodded.

* * *

Next thing Minerva knew, she was offered an alluring bargain.

Pomona was all smiles and cheerfulness, until she got to her point.

And then, Minerva found herself on a pirate ship, captained by the legendary Albus Dumbledore.

He didn't look like a captain. He looked like an elderly man with crooked spectacles and a destabilized mind.

But he isn't.

Frankly, he's brilliant. And shockingly agile.

Minerva learned a few lessons aboard the _Phoenix._

* * *

Why did she leave her struggling mother and her pale-faced brother?

Simply for their own good.

Pomona offered to give her family the riches they acquired while she was a part of their crew.

She had no choice but to consent, despite her qualms. But they were put to rest after a few weeks on the ship.

The crew was friendly. They treated her like one of their own. She was welcomed with open arms.

But something always drew her towards Pomona.

* * *

They were attacked by the _Death Eater_ three months after Minerva's arrival.

Pomona was killed.

The ship survived, but most of the crew did not. Minerva searched frantically among the various bodies scattered around the deck, looking for a specific one.

And promptly burst into tears.

Pomona's body was mangled with injuries, but the peaceful look on her face said otherwise. She had died doing what she loved: fighting against oppression.

Minerva's heart ached for her, her savior, and that was when her heart truly awakened.

She loved Pomona.

* * *

 _950 words_


	37. we light our paths

**Auction - Fairytale: Aladdin**

 **Unicorn Day - Iron Maiden - ChoPansy**

* * *

"Okay, I'll distract him," Pansy whispers to her pet monkey Draco. "You nick the bread when he's not looking."

The monkey nods determinedly and Pansy nips around the edge of the bustling market. She sidles up to the shopkeeper with a charming smile on her face.

While she engages the shopkeeper in meaningless conversation, Draco hangs by his toes and scoops up the loaf of bread unnoticed. He catches Pansy's eye and quickly winks, before zipping away.

Pansy flutters her eyelashes one more time and darts away.

 _Another successful steal._

* * *

Cho drapes herself across the bed and sighs.

Another day of isolation.

Her ebony hair fans out around her heart-shaped face and dark orbs shimmer with longing. Longing for freedom, for the taste of adventure.

But that is only in her wildest dreams.

There is a knock on the door and Cho sits up, a faint spark of interest igniting within her. It's the maid with freshly washed garments and towels, here to draw her a bath.

Cho sighs again and gets to her feet.

When will her life begin?

* * *

Two sets of hungry eyes stare up at her. Pansy looks at them, at the loaf of bread, then Draco. Reluctance flits through his eyes, but he nods.

Pansy tears off about three-quarters of the bread and places it in the waiting hands of the orphans. Their eyes light up with delight and their mellifluous laughter rings through the shadowed alley.

Pansy doesn't lift her gaze from the pitiful portion of bread left in her hands. Her stomach rumbles and she exchanges a look with Draco.

They're going to be hungry again tonight.

Sighing, Pansy smiles weakly at the orphans and ascends the ladder to her rooftop home. It's hastily constructed, with only two blankets on the floor and an overhanging tarp providing meager shelter from the rain, but rain rarely comes. London is hardly spared from the scorching rays of the sun.

The setting sun illuminates the palace, situated on the horizon. Pansy props her chin up with her hand and gazes longingly at the palace.

The royals must have a luxurious life, not wondering where their next meal would come from or worrying about angry shopkeepers and guards.

Pansy watches the sunset with the fire reflected in her eyes.

 _When will my life begin?_

* * *

Cho is to be wedded to Tom Riddle.

She learns this one morning during breakfast. Her parents are the ones to spring the news on her, without any forewarning.

She smiles falsely, but inside she's having an aneurysm.

There's no way she's marrying Riddle. Just hearing his name gives her chills.

There is a loophole. If she can find a suitable husband before the deal is up, she won't have to marry Riddle.

But where is she going to find a man? She's trapped within the walls of her home, with no way out.

Or so she thinks.

One night, when all of the guards have retired to bed, she disguises herself and tiptoes to her balcony and jumps off of it.

Surprisingly, she doesn't hurt herself.

And then, she makes the dash for freedom.

* * *

New day, new steal, Pansy thinks happily as she swiftly ducks underneath the arm of a startled farmer.

The chase is quick and almost too easy. Pansy pulls a few tricks out of her sleeves, catching the guards off-guard, and nimbly escapes.

She ducks behind an cart and the guards rush past her, a tangled mess of shouts and confusion. They won't find me, she thinks smugly.

A young woman approaches the cart she's hiding behind. The first thing Pansy notices is the look of nervousness on her face, and wonders _why is she so nervous?  
_

There's a sudden yell and Pansy tenses as the girl backs away in fear. The shopkeeper advances on her, incensed.

And Pansy acts.

* * *

Next thing Cho knows, there's a hand gripping her wrist and her legs are moving. Her surroundings blur around her, the rush of adrenaline spiraling through her veins-

-and she's yanked into an alley. Her hands clasp around a ladder and her legs move of their own accord.

* * *

Pansy pushes the woman into her makeshift home and collapses against the wall, out of breath.

They both are.

Meanwhile, the girl has crawled and seated herself on the terrace, looking at the sunrise.

Pansy numbly crawls next to her. She can feel the relief radiating off the girl in waves.

Together, they watch the sunrise.

There's a soft gasp beside her and Pansy's head turns. The girl has look of awe on her young face, making Pansy wonder again, _has this girl never seen a sunrise before?_

She looks pretty, illuminated in the golden rays of the sun. Her dark hair is a molten silver, and her eyes are bright with childlike wonder.

And then, Pansy realizes something. Rather, her heart does.

They voice it at the same time.

"It's beautful."

Only they mean different things.

Draco gives her a knowing look.

* * *

 _831 words_


	38. what about us (we never happened)

**Assignment 7 - Arithmancy Task 9 -** **The Humanitarian:** write about a compassionate person acting arrogant

 **Auction - Word: Moist**

 **Unicorn Day - Nocturnal (RemusBellatrix)**

 **Astrology Day -** Bellatrix Lestrange (née Black)

 **Writing Club**

Disney Challenge - Piglet - Write about someone who feels small.

Showtime - The Council Chamber - write about the truth being revealed with terrible consequences

AAA - Censorship - Plot Point: Rated M

Lo's Lowdown - Tony Stark: write about someone who seems arrogant but is insecure.

* * *

Rated M for sexual themes

* * *

 _Her touch is like ice; her eyes, like fire. Her eyes smolder with the heat of a thousand suns and she scalds him with her brilliance._

 _Bellatrix Black is a force not to be reckoned with._

* * *

She's a bully. She victimizes the weak. She worships the mighty.

Remus falls in the former category.

It's only because of the Marauders that he isn't scarred too badly. But that doesn't stop him from admiring her from romantically, of course.

But is admiring someone's spirit a crime?

* * *

 _"Don't breathe a word about this, werewolf," Bellatrix hisses, her nails digging into his skin. There's a warning in her voice._

 _Remus scrutinizes her. Her naked body, spread out on display for him to see. It's so utterly gorgeous. He doesn't want to hide this._

 _But then he thinks of Sirius. Sirius, who is one of his best friends. Sirius, who would turn him away in an instant when he finds out he's fornicating with his detested cousin._

 _So he nods and climbs out of bed, quietly dresses himself, and departs, his heart heavy. He can feel her gaze, still fiery, on the back of his neck._

 _He doesn't know when he'll be back._

* * *

"Bella is _such_ a pain in the arse," Sirius groans, collapsing into his bed. "How Lestrange fancies her, I don't know."

Remus's interest piques at the mention of Rodolphus Lestrange. "Lestrange likes Bellatrix?" he inquires casually.

"Yup." Sirius wrinkles his nose. "He has some creepy, obsessive crush on her. I think he's been arranged to marry her or some shite like that."

Remus suddenly feels queasy. "Arranged marriage, huh?"

Sirius shrugs. "It's common among purebloods. Why?"

And Remus can't breathe. His throat closes and he _needs to get out of here, now._

"Loo," he mumbles and practically sprints towards the bathroom. He locks himself in there and sinks to his floor, his heart cracking.

 _Fudge..._

* * *

He doesn't know how to bring up the subject the next time they meet. So, he opts for the direct approach. It's unlike him, but he doesn't know any other way.

"Rodolphus Lestrange?" he questions harshly the moment he gets a window.

Bella's eyes narrow into slits of black. "What about him?"

"You're marrying him!" Remus shouts, too incensed to care about the consequences. "After all of this!" He gestures between them, their naked bodies, their swollen, moist lips.

Bella pushes him off with surprising strength. "Yeah, so?" she asks, danger laced in her voice.

"You _can't_ marry him!" Remus exclaims indignantly. "He's...he's all wrong for you!"

Bella sits up, her eyes flashing. "How dare you?" she growls. "You think I'm incapable of making my own decisions?"

Remus realizes his mistake. But it's too late.

"You know what?" Bella hisses, her eyes flaming. "I can't believe I ever decided to get into _anything_ with you! You're nothing but a filthy _wolf."_

Remus gasps and reels back, stung. He struggles to find appropriate words to appease her, but the words stick in his throat.

Bella's glare tears through his heart. It's clear what her message is.

 _We're done._

* * *

 _510 words_


	39. weaving plans (for a romance)

**Assignment 7 -** **Task Two: The Mediator:** write about a intuitive person deciding to be lazy.

 **Unicorn Day - Undeniable - BlaisePansy**

 **Auction -** Dialogue: "I've always loved you (changed to _her_ )."

 **For Ilvermorny Board Game Challenge - Robo Rally:** Write about making a plan

* * *

 **Pansy and Blaise are meant to be a bit ooc. just saying.**

* * *

The fire cast shadows on Blaise's handsome face. Pansy shivered.

"Are you sure about this, Pans?" Blaise asked seriously. "Are you sure it's going to work?"

"I'm sure." She wasn't. "Daphne will fall for you in no time." She didn't want that to happen.

"Great." Blaise leaned back in his armchair, his face now shrouded in darkness. "Thanks for doing this for me, Pans. You have no idea how much this means to me."

She could feel her heart breaking all over again at the earnestness of his voice. "It's no trouble."

(It was. Oh, if only he knew how she felt for him. But she had a more intricate plan at work.)

* * *

Callused hands cradled her face. "Wake up, darling."

Pansy mumbled something not even she could understand and rolled over.

The warm voice repeated itself. "Rise and shine, Pans. It's a new day."

 _Blaise._ Pansy shot up. "I'm sorry!" she yelped.

Blaise's topaz eyes shimmered with amusement. "Don't worry, sweetheart. You look as ravishing as always."

Pansy felt her heart flutter. If only he truly meant it.

But it was only in a far-fetched fantasy of hers.

"Overdoing it with the nicknames, _honey,"_ she chided lightly. "You're lucky none of your friends are around. Otherwise they would take the mickey out on you."

"Well, we have to look as lovesick as possible," Blaise chuckled. "I can't call you anything remotely derogatory. Right now, I would call you "Ferret Face" but that's not exactly _loving_ , is it?"

Pansy shoved him lightly. "Oh hush, _sweetie."_

* * *

Daphne looked slightly demurred when they arrived at breakfast, holding hands and gazing at each other with the sappiest looks on their faces.

"This is...new," she stated, her eyebrows raised. "When did this development occur?"

Blaise exchanged another affectionate look with Pansy. "Last night. She and I came to some...revelations."

He was lying straight through his teeth, but only Pansy knew it. Her heart panged.

(The revelations she had truly wanted to tell him wouldn't ever come to light, especially not when he was pursuing another girl.)

She smiled falsely. "Turns out, he'd fancied me for ages and hadn't mustered the guts to confess, until last night."

(They had decided to use improvisation to come up with a plausible backstory, which worked for Pansy. She didn't like rehearsing anyway.)

Daphne's eyes flitted between them, her gaze unreadable. Finally, she said, "I'm happy for you both."

Pansy exhaled with relief.

* * *

But it wasn't over yet.

Daphne cornered her after breakfast. She, Blaise, and Pansy were in Transfiguration together, but he had gone ahead.

"Out with it," Daphne demanded harshly. "You and Blaise aren't really dating, are you?"

Pansy wanted to lie. She was an expert fibber, having sucked up to her superiors more than once. But under Daphne's unwavering glare, she didn't dare.

"No," she admitted heavily. "We're not."

Daphne drew back, her eyes calculating. "I thought so," she said. "You two are good, but not enough to fool me- I could tell something was off. Why are you doing it?"

"He fancies you," Pansy explained. "He figured fake dating would make you jealous and fancy him back. I couldn't say no, because-"

"-you fancy him and you figured that fake dating him would give you a chance to win _him_ over," Daphne finished nonchalantly, adjusting her glasses. "Did I miss anything?"

Pansy blinked at her, bemused. "How-?"

"He's not the first person in the world to do that," Daphne said with an eyeroll, "and neither are you. It's one of the most predictable methods. Besides, I can see the way you look at him. I also admire your willingness to comply with him."

Pansy stared at the ground. "Thank you," she mumbled.

"Now, I am willing to help you achieve your aims," Daphne said. "I will remain tight-lipped about your affections for him, as long you confess to him soon."

"S-Soon?"

"Yes," Daphne confirmed dryly. "If you don't confess, I will attend Hogsmeade with him in your stead."

Pansy felt the oxygen in her lungs take an unexpected vacation. "No," she breathed.

"Yes," Daphne repeated. "Now, do you consent to this ultimatum?"

Pansy has no other choice.

* * *

"Did it work?" Blaise asked eagerly the moment Daphne sat next to him.

"It worked," said Daphne with a grin. "She has no idea."

"I've always loved her," Blaise said dreamily, gazing at her with love in his eyes. "She's perfect."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Daphne watched him with a fond smile on her face.

"I hope this works," he said, snapping out of his trance.

Daphne considered telling him the truth about Pansy's feelings for him, that this plan was unnecessary. But it was rather intriguing to play matchmaker.

Besides, it was much more _fun_ to watch these two dance around each other, oblivious that their feelings were requited.

They _so_ owed her when this was all over.

* * *

 _811 words_


	40. Blind Attraction

**Assignment 8 - Muggle History -** **Task 1 - Alexander Hamilton:** Write about making a serious mistake

 **Auction** \- Hermione/Ginny - (restriction - must break pairing up)

 **Talk Like Shakespeare** \- Sonnet 18 - write about a woman being spoiled or cherished.

* * *

 _Rated T for mentions of sexual activity._

* * *

Ginny didn't mean for it to happen.

It was a pure accident, when Blaise shoved her against a wall and kissed her senseless. It was a calamity when she actually _liked_ it.

She was walking through the corridors after spending a _wonderful_ evening in the library with Hermione. Normally, Hermione disapproved of scandalous affairs, especially in her favorite environment, but Ginny had persuaded her that the library could be used for _other_ things. Things she'd rather keep locked behind her lips, to relish the stolen moments with her girlfriend.

And then, Blaise had appeared out of nowhere, a leer on his face, and pinned her roughly against the stone wall. She cried out as her head collided with the hard stone, her elbows digging painfully into the wall to brace herself.

"You're not going to protest," her attacker murmured, "and you're going to _like_ it."

And then his lips had smashed into her own, smothering her airways. She gasped as his mouth ravaged hers with a fierceness unparalleled by Hermione's. Whereas Hermione's kisses were soft, gentle, and allowed Ginny to push the limits as far as she wanted, Blaise was completely in control. He was insistent and forceful, a maelstrom in comparison to Hermione.

And what's worse is that Ginny liked it _more._

So, she started pushing back, applying a little effort herself, and Blaise's shock was clear when he felt her _kissing back._ He abruptly ripped away, panting, and in spite of herself, Ginny smirked.

"What the bloody-?" Blaise gasped. His golden eyes were swimming with confusion and uncertainty, and Ginny reveled in it.

"What happened to the Mudblood Granger? Your girlfriend?"

"Don't call her that," she rebutted sharply. "The fact that she is my girlfriend didn't matter to you when you kissed me, did it?"

"Good point," Blaise acquiesced, a clever little smirk curling his lips.

And Ginny was filled with an overwhelming need to kiss him until he was comatose, to leave him as hungry as she was.

In other words, it was carnal desire.

Not a single thought of what Hermione would think crossed her mind as she tackled him and provided him bliss he would never feel. It never occurred to her to consider that this was essentially cheating. Hermione was a loyal girlfriend and she would be extremely hurt if she found out Ginny was snogging others behind her back.

 _If_ she ever found out. Ginny was confident she wouldn't.

* * *

She smiled distractedly as Hermione blathered on about NEWTs; she was anything but listening to her excited girlfriend. Her mind was elsewhere, on a dark-haired Slytherin who had the devil's soul, specifically.

If the devil had a soul.

They were supposed to meet in the Room of Requirement after lessons. To do what, Ginny had a fairly good idea.

 _Hot, chapped lips brushing her own, his dark eyelashes framing his smoldering eyes, his hands crawling up her legs..._

She couldn't wait.

* * *

Ginny practically flew at Blaise as he entered the Room of Requirement, nearly bowling him over. _He remembered._

She didn't realize her lips were moving until Blaise's breath tickled her ear. "How could I forget?" he whispered, abandoning his bag and gripping her hips.

"How could I ever doubt you?" she murmured, finally fusing their bodies and lips together.

* * *

It's three weeks into their affair when Hermione.

Ginny should've known that nothing gets past that girl.

Needless to say, it ended in tears, a furious curly-haired girl, and a slightly riled redhead and her new boyfriend. She would not rather recount the argument that ensued after Hermione caught the pair of them going at it in the girls' bathroom. Admittedly, it wasn't the most discreet place.

But Ginny did feel remorseful. Hermione hadn't deserved to be betrayed like this.

But why didn't she feel guilty?

* * *

 _632 words_


	41. in hard times (you're never alone)

**Auction - Familial Pairing: Fridwulfa and Rubeus**

 **Talk Like Shakespeare - Hamlet - write about a slow descent into madness.**

* * *

Rubeus was three when his mother left his father. Words could not describe how heartbroken he was, how inconsolable he seemed to be.

But if he thought he was bad, his father was much, much worse.

Rubeus couldn't remember much. He was only three, too young to understand the meaning of _abandonment._ He only found his father weeping on a flat stone, where his mother sat every night to cook supper.

That day, he was not too young to comprehend _heartbreak._

* * *

Rubeus was ten when he finally mustered the courage to ask his father about his mother.

"Dad?"

His father was busy with sharpening his knife. Ever since his mother had left, they had managed to find an unoccupied cabin in the woods in which to live. But soon, his father said, that would not be big enough. Rubeus was growing faster than mushrooms, he said, and soon, he would outgrow their home.

Being motherless had affected Rubeus in more ways than one, but being wifeless had affected his father more. Her absence had caused his cheeks to hollow, his body to grow frail, whereas Rubeus had grown tall and strong. Regardless of whether or not they ate, it did not hamper his growth, but it made his father weaker.

"What was my mother like?"

His father dropped his knife.

* * *

 _"She was...special. We had a...special relationship."_

 _"'Special?'"_

 _"Well, she was a giantess..."_

* * *

When Rubeus was thirteen, his father died. His father died, and he had no one.

He was alone.

To make matters worse, he was framed for a murder he didn't commit by Tom Riddle, and kicked out of Hogwarts.

* * *

 _He welcomed death with open arms._

 _His mother was gone, his father was dead, Harry was dead. He had nothing to fight for._

 _He was done._

 _Nothing left for him to live for._

* * *

He's gone mad.

He's officially mad.

He's insane.

There's no way Harry's alive.

But at least he can fight for something.

* * *

 _325 words_


	42. you're so gorgeous

**Auction - Pairing: Gilderoy/Mirror**

 **Talk Like Shakespeare - Sonnet 116 - write about a marriage having a fluffy moment.**

* * *

Gilderoy admired the first love of his life, his only friend and ally in this cold, ugly world.

He recalled the day he had met it with fondness.

* * *

 _It was a pretty thing. Decorated with a gold and silver ornate frame and shimmering in the light. It was a simple yet prepossessing, enough to capture his attention._

 _And once he caught sight of his reflection, he would never let it out of his sight again._

* * *

His whole office was covered from top to bottom with mirrors. Mirrors that talked, praised his reflection, mirrors in which he could stare at himself for hours on end.

He wasn't obsessed with mirrors.

He was in love with them.

* * *

 _When he was eleven, he broke his treasured mirror._

 _It was an unmitigated disaster. A tragedy. A catastrophe._

 _He spent the next day cycling through the five stages of grief._

 _Denial. He didn't want to believe his prized mirror was shattered to smithereens._

 _Anger. He raged. He screamed to all who would listen. He cursed inelegantly._

 _Bargaining. He argued with the mirror god and the teachers to repair his mirror._

 _Depression. He moped in his dorm, weeping profusely over the shards of glass in his hands that had been once his beloved mirror._

 _Finally, acceptance. He buried his mirror outside Hagrid's hut as the sun sunk below the horizon, gave it a proper funeral. He, of course, was the only one in attendance._

* * *

"You look dashing today," Rosa commented, her awe not lost upon his ears, nor her sweet voice commending him.

"Thank you," he said, dignified and proud, straightening his coat. "You're not too bad yourself."

If mirrors could blush, he was sure Rosa would be positively glowing.

No. He could not let this mirror get the best of him.

"Only because I'm in it," he amended smoothly.

Rosa's flush disappeared and she huffed as Gilderoy smirked, admiring himself once more in the mirror.

How beautiful he was. How could anyone not be jealous of him and his perfection? Lustrous golden hair, enchanting blue eyes, amazing build, perfect smile. The teachers of Hogwarts could learn a thing or two from him.

Now, to show them what real beauty looked like.

* * *

He married Rosa in his office on December 11th, 1992. It was a small, heartfelt ceremony, with one of his other mirrors, Doris, binding them together.

He proposed to Rosa like this: a small, private dinner in the teachers' lounge, in which he professed his undying love for her and presented a ring he had bought, just for her. Rosa had shed tears of happiness and said yes. It was a romantic, and it became even more so when they kissed.

It was the happiest, and unfortunately, the last happiest moment of his life.

* * *

 _460 words_


	43. are you ready for it?

**Auction: "S/he's innocent and pure and I'll hear nothing more said." / "S/he only lets _you_ think that."**

 **Build a Bunny: (pairing) JamesHermione, (word) - psychotic, (phrase) kill two birds with one stone, (item) carpet, (food) french fries**

 **Easter Egg Hunt - JamesHermione**

 **Talk Like Shakespeare - Sonnet 130 - write about a mistress succeeding in seducing a man.**

* * *

"So, Hermione Granger." James drums his fingers on the table. "Is she dating anyone?"

Sirius stares at him blankly, and then realization dawns slowly on his face. James grins nervously, knowing he's been found out.

"You fancy her!" Sirius exclaims, clapping his hands together.

"How could you not?" A light blush spreads across his face. "You'd be psychotic not to. She's innocent and pure and I'll hear nothing more said."

"She only lets _you_ think that," Sirius snorted, "but really she's sly, demonic fox when she wants to be."

"How do you know?"

Now it's Sirius's turn to flush. "I may or may not have ran into her at the bar last year...one thing led to another, we had drinks, and next thing I knew, we woke up the next morning stark naked and half-eaten french fries strewn on the carpet around us."

James rolls his eyes. "Why was I not expecting that?"

* * *

He needs to woo her.

But how?

His son and Sirius are of no help. Harry is slightly creeped out at his father liking his best friend, so he just walks out of the room whenever James mentions Hermione in a romantic context.

Sirius, meanwhile, keeps making kissing noises whenever he talks about Hermione. It's immature, frankly, but he doesn't know how to stop it.

His ex-wife, Lily, offers him the best advice: romance her the traditional way. Flowers, poems, chocolates, anything along the lines of that works.

James decides to kill two birds with one stone.

He invites Hermione to the bar and makes Sirius and Remus, his two hopelessly enamored friends, tag along. It's his way of making sure he sets up Sirius with Remus and Hermione with himself.

He can't control himself when he sees her all dolled up, wearing a slinky red number and wearing simple, yet smoking makeup.

 _Fuck, he's screwed._

* * *

 _309 words_


	44. soft as a buttercup

_**I suck at poems in general. I'm sorry.**_

 _ **Companion piece to Shay's in the sun, but from gellert's perspective.**_

* * *

Albus is so damn naive

He doesn't know what to believe

But he does have a mighty long beard

Which is not in the least feared

He looks young, yet so old

At Gellert's will, he will fold

But he is still striking

His wand strength is like a viking.

His charm is too alluring

It is very reassuring

But Gellert must keep his guard up

Otherwise he'll be as soft as a buttercup

But he is falling fast

He thought the time for love was past

But it's Albus, a man with a backbone

His smile and his wit are set in stone

His beard is something to die for

It makes him pure to his very core

But Gellert must stop the spread

Albus is too much in his head

He must accomplish his goal

It will satisfy his needy soul

The world must be Muggle-free

It's time for the wizards to truly see

Muggles to wizards should be inferior

Because they act so superior

Albus is the only one who can match his might

And together they can take over without a fight

Pureness is definitely the way to go

It will serve the Muggles a deserved blow

To eradicate them all is very wise

And Gellert will revel in their cries

* * *

Auction - Character: Gellert Grindelwald

Talk Like Shakespeare - Write a poem ending in a couplet


	45. shattered shadows

Auction - AU: Ghost

Talk Like Shakespeare - Write about someone dying on their birthday.

Jelly Bean Day - Raspberry - (pairing) JamesLily, Spoiled Milk - (theme) loss

* * *

She can still feel his touch lingering on her body.

It was the little things. A kiss on the lips, his fingers intertwined with hers, his foot nudging hers. It was his presence that calmed her, her rock to cling on to.

And now he was like _this._ Cold and empty, his lips forever sealed shut, his eyes never to open again. His soul had long departed his body, but it had been merciful enough to leave her something to mourn, to let her tears fall on.

Had his soul gone to heaven, she didn't know. It deserved to move on, after all of the good things he had accomplished in life. He had such a pure soul. If it went to hell, she would march straight to Satan himself and demand a refund.

.

 _It was supposed to be a good day. It was his birthday._

 _They had planned an elaborate celebration for him, a celebration that would fulfill his wishes._

 _And then, that was when things gone horribly wrong._

.

The funeral was a quiet affair, with few attendees, primarily his closest friends and family, all to see his rotting corpse. She felt sick.

Why create such a spectacle over a person who was long gone? Why honor them when they were not there to appreciate it?

That was a twisted, warped way of thinking, but it was the only way she could think. Her old self would've chastised her for it.

But her old self had vanished, to be replaced by more depraved version. Her husband's death had done nothing except change her in drastic ways, ways which were not good.

She was mad, almost deranged. Her family and friends gave her a wide berth, knowing she could lash out at any second. There was the added fact that she was a powerful witch with powers unrivaled by no one.

The hospital classified her as certifiably insane. She was locked up in a cell, alone with only her lunacy for company. The hospital figured that if she was confined for some time, it would help settle her "temporary" bout of mania.

It didn't.

She was sent to an asylum after she was released for almost killing the doctors who treated her. There, it was hell from there on out.

But she wasn't crazy at all.

It was something else driving her madness. Things that no one else ever saw or diagnosed, for it was invisible to the naked eye.

But she saw it. No one else did, but she did.

It was a ghost.

It was a ghost that haunted her dreams and her reality. It was a ghost that lingered with her, no matter where she went.

It was a ghost.

.

 _A menacing figure stood at the door, his snake-like eyes boring holes into each and every one of them. Several hooded figures flanked him, ready to attack at his command._

 _"How quaint," said a silky, smooth voice that made her want to punch him in the face, "a birthday party. How lovely. Too bad I have to crash it."_

 _Her hand searched for her wand, and a terrible realization struck her: she had left it upstairs. She was virtually defenseless against a man who was feared by many, not for his brute strength, but for his mercilessness._

 _James moved in front of her, his own wand out. "Why are you here?" he snapped, his other hand clenching into a fist._

 _Voldemort laughed, a harsh sound that grated against her ears. "Do I need to have a reason to be here?"_

 _"True," James acknowledged, and she stifled a gasp, "like the time you ruthlessly killed those Muggle babies without a valid reason?"_

 _She didn't know if he was being stupid or brave; she just prayed that whatever tactic he was using, it would work._

 _She was vaguely aware of others being still around them, not moving a muscle, watching the confrontation. She hated them all. Why were they like this, when there was the threat of death hanging over their heads?_

 _Voldemort just laughed again. "You're young," he observed, "and incredibly blinded. But I can remove that mask and show you the real world."_

 _"Not likely," James spat defiantly. "I would rather die than side with you."_

 _"Ah, the male bravado," the snake-eyed man sighed, but this time mirthless. "I know exactly what you're feeling, young man. Oh excuse me, it's James."_

 _"It's Potter to you."_

 _"That's what your father was called, no? Oh wait, he's dead, so that name passes on to you. I forgot."_

He's trying to goad him, _she realized._ He mustn't take the bait.

 _"Don't break," she whispered, both to herself and James._

.

She was breaking. She had no James to support her. She was being ripped apart at the seams and there was nothing holding her together.

She was utterly hopeless.

.

 _James followed her advice and didn't break. He was strong and steady and unwavering, and it made her more proud of him. This was why she fell for him. His tenacity, his penchant for sticking up for his family and friends- frankly, it made him more appealing._

 _If they made it through this, she would reward him._

 _"Don't use his name in vain," James growled. "He was a good man, a better man than you will ever be."_

 _Voldemort's face twisted into an ugly snarl. "Well, I suppose you'll just have to join him then._ Avada Kedavra!"

 _James didn't have a chance to defend himself. Her scream resonated above all of the others' as James fell to the ground like a marionette whose strings had just been cut._

 _And then, power surged through her as her pain took over. The sheer force of it overwhelmed her, and next thing she knew, black robes were strewn on the floor as she fell on her knees._

 _Everyone whom she loved was shielded from the blast, but Voldemort was lying on the floor, dead._

 _._

She was insane. She kept seeing ghosts of him surrounding her, whispering in her ears.

One day, she would see him again. She would make sure of it.

* * *

 _1017 words_


	46. the height of wisdom

**Auction: Padma Patil**

 **Egg Hunt - LunaPadma**

 **Build a Bunny - Red Ball Gown - (setting) Yule Ball**

 **Jelly Bean Day - Kiwi - Padma Patil, Piña Colada - (setting) a party**

* * *

I. Parvati Patil

Padma knew from the beginning that her and her sister were nothing alike.

She was a free-spirited gossip queen, while Padma preferred to keep to herself. Parvati was the epitome of mischief, while Padma was more invested in knowledge and hence, reading.

There was clear, distinct line between them and their personalities. They desired different things, wanted to accomplish different goals. Parvati wanted to be pretty, popular, and wanted all of the boys to flock to her. Meanwhile, Padma wanted to a learned scholar, with the world's knowledge stored in her brain.

They couldn't be more different. And yet, Parvati was her rock, her support, her shoulder to cry on, and vice versa. They weren't seen in public together, but secretly huddled in nooks and alcoves, comforting each other like sisters did.

No one else shared their bond, nor had an inkling of it.

.

"Does this make me look fat?" Parvati twirled around in her traditional Indian dress, which was pink and orange and gold, blending together as she spun.

"You look fine," Padma assured her, seated on her bed. "Splendid, I would say."

"Thank you," Parvati beamed. "I hope Harry likes it."

Padma pursed her lips. She doubted Harry would like it, since he had his eyes on another girl, but she kept her lips sealed for Parvati's sake.

She hoped Parvati was aware of what she was doing.

II. Ron Weasley

Padma sent another displeased look at her date, who was glaring enviously at Granger and Krum dancing.

She knew the redhead fancied Granger, but at least he could not be insolent and indulge her. He could be a courteous gentleman and at the most offer her a dance. Was that so difficult?

She had figured long ago she was a last resort date, but it wouldn't hurt to be genial, would it?

III. Luna Lovegood

She was an enigma wrapped in obfuscation. She was naive, young, yet so powerful.

And yet, this girl changed Padma's life.

The sun resided in her smile and her hair, the moon in her hair. She was a contradiction, wise yet innocent.

And she entered Padma's life like a hurricane.

* * *

 _361 words_


	47. our universe

**Auction: HermioneBill**

 **Easter Egg Hunt - BillHermione**

 **Insane House -** 680\. Dialogue - "I miss you."

* * *

"I miss you." Bill clutched the telephone to his ear like a lifeline, his knuckles white. Charlie had purposely retreated into the shower to give him some privacy.

His wife was on the end, presumably in the same position. Hermione was holding the telephone to her ear, rubbing her baby bump.

"I miss you too," she said. "And so does the baby."

As if it had heard, the baby kicked against her stomach. Hermione gasped and Bill's face whitened.

"'Mione? What's wrong?"

"No, nothing's wrong," Hermione answered, unable to contain the excitement in her voice. Bill faltered.

"Well?" he prompted.

"The baby kicked," she said. "The baby finally kicked!"

A giddy sensation pooled inside of him and his face broke into a wide smile, stretching from ear to ear, and he shouted with glee.

Charlie came skidding out of the bathroom a few moments, a towel wrapped around him haphazardly. "Where's the fire?" he panted.

Bill made a jerking motion, gesturing for him to leave. Charlie's face fell and he shuffled back into the bathroom.

Meanwhile, on the other end, Hermione was hyperventilating. She, too, was smiling with the light of a thousand sons residing in her grin.

"I want it to be a girl, just like you," Bill said suddenly, "so she'll be beautiful, just like you."

Hermione blushed. Even though they were much older now, he still managed to make her heart flutter and her knees weaken. "Thank you, but I personally hope it's a boy," she replied smoothly, "so he'll be as handsome as you."

Now it was Bill's turn to stutter and blush. Her silky voice did _things_ to him. His pants grew more uncomfortable.

"Don't," he admonished, "don't do that while there are innocent ears around."

Hermione was silent. And then, she said, "Bet you two pounds that it's a boy."

"You're on."

* * *

 _308 words_


	48. we are heroes (of the past and future)

Lily Evans, eventually Potter

 _as beautiful as the flower she was named after_

She's everyone's best friend

 _because of her heart of gold_

 _\_

James Potter

 _mischievous but talented_

He wins hearts

 _but not the one he truly desires_

 _\_

Marlene McKinnon

 _outgoing and flirty_

She breaks barriers

 _and boys' hearts_

 _\_

Sirius Black

 _his eyes scream rebellion_

He has a troubled past

 _so he builds a better future_

 _\_

Remus Lupin

 _the one no one hates_

He's shy, but sweet

 _but he doesn't deserve to be in pain_

\

Peter Pettigrew

 _the dull, underestimated_

He's stronger than he looks

 _so he doesn't shatter_

\

These are the original survivors

 _the ones with the weight of the world on their shoulders_

They survived in spirit

 _and never lost hope_

* * *

Harry Potter

 _the son of heroes, the boy with a tremendous burden_

His emerald eyes, inherited from his mother

 _shine with the brilliance of millions of stars_

\

Ron Weasley

 _rash and irrational_

His heart is in the right place

 _it belongs to those he loves_

\

Hermione Granger

 _the girl with knowledge and cleverness_

She enlightens the world

 _and in the process, becomes invincible_

 _\_

Neville Longbottom

 _meek and underrated_

His confidence blooms

 _as does his dignity_

\

Ginny Weasley

 _small but fierce_

She fights for what she believes in

 _and ends up triumphing_

\

Luna Lovegood

 _as lunatic as her name_

She has so much power

 _and uses it wisely_

 _\_

Severus Snape

 _driven by heartbreak_

says loyal to his cause

 _even if it means dying_

\

Tom Riddle

 _who goes by Voldemort_

He's greedy, selfish, wants the world at his fingertips

 _but can he handle it?_

\

Albus Dumbledore

 _with sagacity beyond his age_

He too, holds a burden

 _that could potentially destroy the world_

 _\_

These are the new survivors

 _whether dead or alive_

They all saw an opportunity

 _and they seized it_

* * *

~301 words~

Written for Auction: Tom Riddle/Voldemort, Jelly Bean Day: Buttered Popcorn (Luna Lovegood) and Earthworm (dull)


	49. shades of smooth

There's a cute barista who makes delicious sandwiches at the deli just a few blocks away from Daphne's flat, which gives Daphne the perfect excuse to talk to her.

Every morning, she takes a generous amount of time to get herself dolled up for her one minute interaction with this cute barista. She carefully rinses and styles her hair, tediously applies cosmetics, meticulously selects her clothing. Today's ensemble is a burgundy off-the-shoulder dress with tan ankle boots. Her nails are a sharp shade of purple, violent purple.

 _Smoking,_ she thinks, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

Daphne smears on lip gloss, grabs her purse, and strides out of her flat.

Today, she thinks, is the day where she will invite her on an outing. Today, she will not chicken out.

* * *

Tracey's not at the counter when she arrives, instead a gangly, pimple-ridden teenager who gives her what he thinks is a winning smile, but in reality there's more teeth-baring than actual smiling.

"What can I do for you, miss?" he asks flirtatiously and Daphne purses her lips to prevent words she will regret later.

Instead, she asks sweetly, "Is Tracey here?"

The boy's face falls. "Yeah, she's in the back making sandwiches. Is there anything _I_ can do for you?"

He's trying to redeem himself; the attempt is so poor and obvious. Daphne struggles to keep her harsh words at bay.

She decides to humor him. "Can you get me an espresso, light roast?"

The boy appears to finally recognize the hint of aversion in her voice. "Of course, ma'am," and he shuffles off despondently.

(Daphne doesn't feel the least bit sorry.)

Tracey comes out, and all of the cool just evaporates from Daphne. She sits up, her eyes trained on the blonde.

Flour is smeared on her left cheek and drops of mayonnaise coats her hand. Her hair seems to have of a mind of its own and has gone wild, strands sticking out haphazardly from her bun.

"Hey," she says, smiling radiantly.

(See, that's how it's done. Tracey looks like an angel all on her own, but she is painfully and blissfully unaware of it.)

"Hey." And suddenly, Daphne's sophisticated manner dissipates and she leans forward eagerly in her haste to get closer to the stunning beauty.

"Can I ask you something?" Daphne's nails dig into her palms. No turning back now.

"Sure."

"Can-I mean, would you like to grab a drink with me?" Daphne babbled. "I mean, obviously not now, but sometime. I understand if you say no, I mean, you hardly-"

Tracey cut her off with a laugh, a merry action that caused Daphne's hopes to rise. "Of course. I would love to."

* * *

447 words

* * *

Auction: Occupation: Sandwich Artist

Jelly Bean Day - Blueberry: TraceyDaphne, Plum: purple


	50. raindrops in her hair (siriusmarlene)

_for Rose - i tried to imitate your writing style, and i hoped it turned out okay :)_

* * *

 _fire crackling in the hearth~raindrops decorating the window~lightning flashes~the scent of fresh parchment and ink~ink splotches scattered across paper~steaming mugs of hot cocoa~clocks ticking_

* * *

The sound of pen scratching against paper fills the room. Marlene's hands are stained with black splotches and blisters. Her eyes are shade of dark brown with a layer of intensity coating them.

Rain beats against the windows, unrelenting. Fire hisses in the hearth. Strangely enough, this makes for an ideal atmosphere in which to ponder.

The storm outside is nothing compared to the typhoon in her head. The mind of a writer, which is a whirlwind of thoughts, ideas, and criticisms. But overlaying all of that is a stamp, comprised of only one massive red word: DEADLINE.

Yes, deadline. A deadline that was make-or-break for her career. A fine line between success and failure. The difference between the pinnacle of her life and the slope.

Essentially, it would determine the course of her life.

There was a soft knock which stirred her. She rose effortlessly from her chair and swiftly answered it.

It was welcome company. Sirius, balancing a tray with mugs and gripping the handle of an umbrella. She let him in, and the door closed with such gusto a breeze blew through her hair, ruffling the softly curled tresses.

He's a ripple in her bubble of concentration, but a welcome one. Her head is pounding and her hand is cramped.

"I brought you hot chocolate," Sirius stated, but Marlene's ink-stained hands were already snaking towards the cup, grasping it and absorbing the warmth it emitted.

She inhaled the delectable aroma before daintily sipping. Liquid heat flooded her mouth and slithered down her throat, assuaging the dryness within.

"Thank you," she murmured, a thin smile stretching across her lips. "I needed that."

"It's not a problem." Sirius, uninvited, drapes himself across her immaculate sofa. "I figured you needed a break. Your light has been on and you haven't moved for six hours."

"I have an important deadline approaching," she says, delicately taking another sip. "My manuscript is due in precisely eight hours and fifty-seven minutes."

"That's a shame." Sirius sits up, his silver eyes sparkling. "I was planning on going on a midnight rainy night stroll with you, but I suppose I'll have to cancel it now."

Crap. Now he's put her in a predicament, unleashing those puppy eyes on her. He knows it's almost a hundred-percent effective. He's smart; he knows the ways to convince.

She ordinarily would have no problem with going on a stroll with him, but one glance tells her that time is ticking, inching closer to her deadline with every second.

But Sirius brought her hot chocolate.

"Fine," she acquiesces, draining her mug in one swallow. It scorches her throat, but nothing is more satisfying than the look of pure ecstasy that crosses his boyish face.

The moment she sets down the cup, Sirius seizes her hand and pulls her towards the door, disregarding her protests for a proper rainy day ensemble.

He flings the door open and drags her out into the downpour. Marlene splutters as the cold rain bites her cheeks and drenches her clothes.

 _"Damn you, Black,_ " she hisses, but it goes unheard.

It's certainly as drastic change from her previous, secluded environment. The rain is like an elixir; it makes her feel young and carefree. Despite the gloom, Marlene finds herself grinning as she twirls around, allowing, even _welcoming_ the icy water to hit her skin.

She's probably a mess right now, but if it permits her to forget her deadline even for a second, it's totally worth it.

* * *

 _604 words_

* * *

Auction: Occupation- Writer

Jelly Bean Day - Peach - (character) Marlene McKinnon, Chocolate Pudding - (food) hot chocolate

Assignment 9 - Religious Education - Task 4: Meditation - write about concentrating on a task.


	51. soon to be reality

_**BookLover407** joined the chat for the first time._

 _ **Red Dragon Fire** joined the chat for the first time._

 ** _BookLover407:_** Hi there!

 _ **Red Dragon Fire:**_ hi! how r u?

 _ **BookLover407:**_ I'm doing great! You?

 _ **Red Dragon**_ **Fi** **re:** fine, i guess...my younger brothers r nagging me

 _ **BookLover407:**_ Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that! How many brothers do you have?

 _ **Red Dragon Fire:**_ five, plus a little sister. i'm the second oldest. do u have any siblings?

 _ **BookLover407:**_ Oh wow, that's a lot! I'm an only child, fortunately. It never occurred to my parents to have another kid, so I guess it's just me.

 ** _BookLover407:_** Sorry, that sounded really patronizing.

 _ **Red Dragon Fire:**_ dw about it. u r really lucky, tho

 ** _BookLover407:_** Thanks? Well, I have to go. I'll see you around?

 _ **Red Dragon Fire:**_ ofc

* * *

 _ **BookLover407** joined the chat_

 _ **BookLover407:**_ Are you around?

 _ **Red Dragon Fire** joined the chat_

 _ **BookLover407:**_ Hey!

 _ **Red Dragon Fire:**_ hey!

 _ **BookLover407:**_ So, I was thinking we could ask each other this or that questions in order to get to know each other better. An icebreaker, y'know?

 _ **Red Dragon Fire:**_ sounds good to me

 _ **BookLover407:**_ Do you want to start, or should I?

 _ **Red Dragon Fire:**_ u can

 _ **BookLover407:**_ Okay, let's start with something simple: chocolate or vanilla?

 _ **Red Dragon Fire:**_ in what context? bc i like both

 _ **BookLover407:**_ Let's say ice cream.

 _ **Red Dragon Fire:**_ then chocolate, def

 _ **BookLover407:**_ Me too.

 _ **Red Dragon Fire:**_ my turn. sunny or rainy?

 _ **BookLover407:**_ Rainy. It makes for a perfect reading environment.

 _ **Red Dragon Fire:**_ ...i never would have guessed it XD

 _ **BookLover407:**_...Are you being sarcastic?

 _ **Red Dragon Fire:**_ yup. ur name is pretty much a giveaway.

 _ **BookLover407:**_...I walked right into that one. What's your pick?

 _ **Red Dragon Fire:**_ sunny. rain for me is dull.

 _ **BookLover407:**_ I'm sure my friend, Tonks, would agree. She hates being cooped up.

 _ **Red Dragon Fire:**_ u know tonks? she's one my friends too!

 _ **BookLover407:**_ That's so strange!

 _ **Red Dragon Fire:**_ ikr! maybe we know each other in rl?

 _ **BookLover407:**_ It's a possibility.

 _ **Red Dragon Fire:**_ we'll find each other someday, then

* * *

 _349 words_

* * *

Auction: Pairing - HermioneCharlie

Jelly Bean Day - Tutti-Frutti - (character) Nymphadora Tonks, Marshmallow - (genre) fluff


	52. you're my home

Jelly Bean Day - Grass - (character) Daphne Greengrass, Booger - (action) sneezing

Auction: First Line - It had to be around here somewhere.

Scavenger Hunt - Write a fic of exactly 444 words using the prompts: (character) Daphne Greengrass, (word) delightful and (creature) Dragon.

* * *

It had to be around here somewhere.

Daphne dug through piles of junk, sneezing as dust idly drifted through the air. On top of that, there was a cut on her cheek from bumping into a sharp corner.

"This is simply delightful," she muttered. "Harry had better be grateful..."

She kept searching for her desired item, tossing aside other rubbish.

There was the sound of feet climbing up the stairs, the sound of a trapdoor creaking, and Harry poked his head. "Babe, did you find it? Bella's getting impatient."

"I can't find anything in this clutter!" Daphne collapsed on the floor and gestured hopelessly to the mountains of junk around her. "Why don't you look around, for a change?"

Harry sensed that his wife was growing more despondent by the second and that she desperately needed comforting. He sighed, crossed the floor, and enveloped her in a tight embrace.

"Babe, it'll be okay," he said soothingly, rubbing her back. "It'll be okay."

"How do you know?" she snapped waspishly, sniffling. Harry felt something wet drop on his jacket. "I'm a failure."

"Trust me, Daph," he murmured. "You're a beautiful wife and mother and brilliant at it too. Don't tell yourself that."

"Weasley tells me that," she cried. "Your oh-so dear friend Weasley. He tells me I'm a failure and I don't deserve anything."

Harry felt anger surge through him for his friend saying such unkind things, but this was not the time and place to unleash it. He kept it at bay, mentally reminding himself to have words with his friend later.

"Ron's just upset that I married you and not his sister," he said. "I'm not gonna make excuses for his behavior; he should learn to keep his temper in check. What I am gonna say is that he has no right to say such untrue things about you."

She sniffled again, lifting her head a few centimeters and looking him square in the eyes, her own dark ones sparkling with unshed tears. "You really think I'm not a failure?"

"Nope. Not one bit." Harry kissed her chastely on the lips and pulled away. "You're so strong, Daphne, and gorgeous. Don't listen to what he says. He doesn't know anything about you. I love you more than anything."

Daphne pulled herself away and wiped her eyes, smiling from to ear-to-ear. "Thanks for that, babe. I really needed that."

"Anything for you," he said. "Besides, what kind of a husband would I be if I didn't comfort my pregnant wife?"

Daphne smiled. "A very bad one. Now, let's find that toy dragon."

"Yeah, don't want to keep her waiting," he said, grinning with fondness.

* * *

 _444 words_


	53. opening my eyes (alicelily)

Alice's head was pounding. Her body was aching. All she could register was a soft, comfortable sensation underneath her. It felt vaguely...like a couch?

She searched her mind, but couldn't find any memories. Oh no, had she drank? She vaguely recalled having a glass of some liquid.

"Mary?" she called out dazedly without opening her eyes. She would know what had happened.

When she opened her eyes, instead of a pair of worried brown eyes hovering over her, her eyes meet brilliant emerald, looking down at her curiously.

"You're not Mary," she said stupidly.

"I'm not," the girl answered. "I'm Lily, and I think you have the wrong flat. Apparently your key works for two flats."

Alice sat up, discombobulated. She glanced around. This was most definitely not her flat, as Lily had just confirmed.

"Oh, I'm so sorry." Alice shook her head despondently. "I remember being at a fair, and there was alcohol, and then everything's just a blur after that. I think I vaguely recall stumbling into a flat."

"Well, it was the wrong one," Lily said frankly.

"I...should probably go." Alice struggled to her feet. "I'm sorry for the inconvenience."

With surprising strength, Lily pushed her back into the couch. Alice gaped. What did she think she was doing?

"You're not going anywhere," she said firmly. "You're in no fit state. You're hungover."

"But Mary-" she tried to argue.

"Mary already knows," Lily cut her off. "She just called you and I talked to her and she agrees. You need to rest here. She'll be here in an hour to pick you up."

"Oh." Alice fell back into the armrest. "Thanks."

"No problem." Lily smiled, and Alice's stomach lurched as she noticed that Lily was really, really pretty.

Her head was spinning. The last thing she recalled was mumbling "You're really pretty" before she immersed herself fully in the cushions and dozed off.

* * *

 _316 words_

* * *

Auction: Alice Longbottom

Jelly Bean Day - Margarita - (pairing) AliceLily, Candyfloss - (setting) a fair

Scavenger Hunt - Write the scenario: I woke up and you're sleeping on my couch and I have no idea what you are doing here.


	54. everlasting lucidity

George was dying.

His memories were withering away, his heart was weakening. But at least he knew that he would die happy and satisfied, with his wife and family around him.

His mother and father were already dead, peacefully asleep in their graves. Angelina was also fading, but she was simultaneously growing more beautiful. She looked twice as gorgeous as she did when they were married, even with the interchanging gray and white streaks in her hair and the wrinkles lining her cheeks.

All of his siblings were around his bedside, clamoring to get a look at him as he rolled around his bed, trying to get a glimpse of all of them. Bill, who was still scarred, but looking as young as ever. Charlie, also scarred, but had gained a youth unlike him. Percy, lecturing on about the twelve symptoms of Alzheimer's but endearing all the same. Ron, his younger, rash, but family-devoted and loyal to the end. Ginny, smart and strong and a true career-oriented woman, while maintaining the house.

And then, there was his other family, not by blood, but they were close enough. Harry, who had gone through so much postwar, but had still managed to stay resilient. Hermione, who was shrewd but also gentle, who broke barriers with her knowledge. Fleur, who was still claiming hearts with her beauty, but also with her personality. Lee, who had been his and his twin's comrade throughout their years at Hogwarts, and still enjoyed pulling pranks despite their age.

 _His twin._ The only hollow part of his heart, the only person who George could wholly remember his memories with. Fred was the one person that should've been there, yet he wasn't. He was there in spirit, however, watching down from heaven, hopefully proud of him. And George would be reuniting with him soon.

Fred's face seemed to swim in front of eyes, urging him to make a choice. Hang on to life, or welcome Death's arms.

But he had nothing to live for. He had fulfilled his life, made some of the happiest memories of his life. Sure, he couldn't remember all of them, but the ones he did would forever be a burning candle in his heart, shining bright.

So George chose the latter.

* * *

 _377 words_

* * *

Auction: (AU) Alzheimer's

Jelly Bean Day: Mango - (pairing) GeorgeAngelina, Vomit - (scenario) a character is sick

Scavenger Hunt - Write a fluffy fic about death.


	55. unexpected attachment

"Are you sure about this, Ron?" Harry twiddled his thumbs anxiously. "I mean, I don't even know her that well...and we're basically just third-wheeling you and Hermione..."

"Relax, mate, it'll be fine." Ron straightened his tie for the umpteenth time, staring intently at his reflection. "Do you think Hermione likes bowties?"

Harry raised an eyebrow skeptically. "I think you're giving advice to the wrong person, mate."

Ron allowed his hands to fall. "You're right, I'm overthinking this. I'll just...go with the flow? Is that how Muggles say it?"

Harry chuckled. "Spot on."

* * *

"Here we are," said the cab driver gruffly.

Harry handed the driver a wad of cash and the pair of them stepped out of the cab. Ron immediately stiffened.

"Oh God, she's right there," Ron hissed in his ear, partially hiding behind Harry. "What do I say, what do I do...?"

Harry followed his line of vision. Standing a few meters away, just outside the restaurant, was a girl with thick brown curls and lilac-colored dress. Beside her was a girl with vibrant red hair and a strapless green dress, with freckles smattered across her cheeks. This was undeniably Ron's sister, and she was exceptionally pretty. Harry gulped.

"Follow your own advice," he reminded him, amusement reverberating in his voice. In reality, this was a cover-up in order to hide how nervous _he_ was. He was being a hypocrite, but he couldn't lie: Ron's sister was really gorgeous.

 _Oh boy, this was going to be good,_ his inner self told him.

* * *

The double date was going decently. At least Ron hadn't done anything embarrassing so far.

Ginny was an excellent conversationalist and Harry soon discovered after a few minutes in that she didn't do _awkward._ She had so much in common with him; it was uncanny. There was't anything they didn't talk about.

(There might've been a few flirtatious winks thrown in as well, which made Harry's heart flutter like no tomorrow.)

At the end of the date, she gave him his phone number, meaning she wanted more.

(He was more than ecstatic to comply.)

(120 dates later, they got married.)

(So did Ron and Hermione. It was a double wedding, ironically.)

(It was the best day of his life.)

* * *

 _372 words_

* * *

Auction: HarryGinny


	56. true colors

**Rated T for mentions of sexual themes**

* * *

Pansy wasn't the least bit pretty. On the inside, at least. She's absolutely smoking on the outside, with curves that make men drool and a wicked talent for makeup application.

At least, that's what all the men say.

(But to be fair, they were only there for the sex. They were just a one-night stands, meaningless moments of ecstasy. The next morning, she would wake up, and the other side of the bed would be cold and empty, even if it was their flat.)

But she can count on one hand all of the real relationships she had, ones where she'd had a man in her bed longer than one night, someone who she thought had bothered to look beneath the pretty exterior and appreciate her true self.

The current count? One. And it had been an extramarital affair, one which had ended in disaster and the man heartbroken, with pepper spray in his eyes. Apparently his wife had been a cop and she had been in uniform when she had caught them.

All in all, Pansy was on a hunt to find the perfect man, who was single and willing to dig deeper than what was on the outside.

* * *

The Order of the Phoenix. A secret society devoted to usurping Tom Riddle and his regime.

The Death Eaters. A sacred circle of Riddle's closest allies, masked as guards.

Pansy was in the latter, even though secretly, she wanted to resist. However, her parents had forced her to be there, and she didn't want to upset her parents. Plus, it was for the sake of reputation.

It was horrible environment in Riddle's headquarters. The Death Eaters, comprised mostly of sexually-frustrated, unattractive men, would give her leers as she passed them in the hallways. Some of them even had the audacity to touch her inappropriately. Nevertheless, they were found with mysteriously broken limbs.

The women, meanwhile, were no better. There were so few, and those few often looked at her with disdain and envy, as if she was disgracing them and trying to look better.

(Granted, she was wearing somewhat scandalous outfits, but they were always covered by a long coat or a cloak.)

And Riddle himself appraised her every time she entered her line of vision, not because of the information she had, but how she was dressed. She could see it in his eyes; the hunger most men contained when they saw her. His was a little better in terms of disguise, but she long since learned to decipher the looks in men's eyes. It was chilling, but if it elevated her status, then she resolutely ignored it.

She did, however, wish someone saw her with appreciation for something other than her looks.

* * *

 _PP,_

 _Red chickens in the penthouse._

 _TR_

* * *

Pansy walked in the bar, dressed to the nines in clothes meant to seduce and cosmetics meant to captivate. The bouncer at the door looked her up and down and she smiled sunnily at him.

Once inside, she scanned the room for her target. Anything that could lead her to him, so she could carry out her plan.

She spotted a mop of red hair and hurried towards it. Good, he was alone.

She plastered a sultry smile on her face as she approached him, deliberately leaning over him so that her assets were handily and tantalizingly in his face.

Ronald Weasley swallowed loudly, his eyes fastened on the dip of her turquoise dress and she smirked, pouring every ounce of sexual empathy she possessed. He was also desperate, considering his girlfriend had dumped him two weeks ago.

"Hey, you," she said seductively. "Wanna have a drink with me?"

"Er, um," stammered Weasley, evidently flustered (and rightfully so). "Yeah, I mean, sure."

Pansy smiled. Her plan was working.

"I, um, I'll pay," he stuttered as they sat down on barstools, pulling out his wallet clumsily.

"Oh, that's so sweet of you!" she trilled, placing a hand on his thigh.

(There was a definite bulge in his pants now.)

"It's, er, no problem," he mumbled bashfully.

* * *

She almost slept with him. She almost did.

But she stopped herself. She felt bad for this man, that he was being used by her like this.

Because she wasn't there for the sex. A part of her was hoping he wouldn't fall for her exterior.

But he did. She should've known.

He was a fool.

(So was she.)

* * *

 _735 words_

* * *

Assignment 8 - Muggle History - Task 4 - Marquis de Lafayette: Write about someone who uses their looks to their advantage

Auction: Color- Turquoise

Crafty Cooking - Pepper - Item: Pepper spray, Character: Pansy Parkinson


	57. Monsters

"I don't like chocolate," Sirius declared, striding through the door.

Thankfully, it was only James in the dormitory, flipping through _Witch Weekly._ He looked up as Sirius made his dramatic entrance and remarked, "You're lucky Moony isn't here."

Sirius threw himself theatrically on his four-poster. "How am I supposed to tell him?" he bemoaned.

James laid down his magazine. "Do you really think I'm the best person to come to for advice?" he asked skeptically. "In Moony's book, disliking chocolate is a transgression. You'll be lucky to make it out alive, let alone remain his boyfriend."

Sirius gulped. "That's why I need your help."

* * *

"Are you sure this is going to work?" James hissed. They were under the Invisibility Cloak in order to accost Remus on his way back from the library.

"I'm positive," Sirius whispered. "Shh, here he comes!"

Just then, Remus rounded the corner and Sirius pulled back the hood partially, as to reveal himself but not James. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and leaned casually against the wall, pasting a charismatic smile on his lips. He positioned himself so that the torchlight accentuated his face handsomely.

Remus halted, evidently surprised. "Pads?"

Sirius righted himself, pretending to look startled. "Moony? Where are you going?"

"Back to the common room," Remus replied, lifting an eyebrow.

"Excellent! Mind if I accompany you?"

"Sirius, what's wrong?" asked Remus as Sirius fell into his stride. "You only use big words when you're nervous about something."

"I need to tell you something." Sirius took a deep breath. He could feel James's eyes, though invisible, burning holes in the back of his head.

"I don't-"

"Remus!" It was a first year hurrying in their direction, panic painted on his round face. "My cat's missing!"

Remus took charge of a situation and departed the corridor, leaving Sirius with a slightly dejected look on his face.

James pulled back the hood to reveal his disembodied head. "Next time, mate."

* * *

This time, the plan was foolproof. Meet Remus in his second dwelling in the school, the library. If he lost his temper, he would be expelled from the library, and everyone knew that was one of Remus's worst nightmares.

However, Sirius didn't count on the falling bookshelves.

Next thing he knew, they were scrambling for their lives, Sirius pushing Remus ahead of him. Coated in sweat, they had kissed. The snog that had followed afterward was the best of Sirius's life, but he still had a heavy burden on his mind.

* * *

Finally, he decided the best approach was to suck it up and tell him upfront. James would there, underneath the Cloak, in case Remus tried to attack Sirius.

It was wintertime, and for some bizarre reason, Remus had gone a walk. When he returned, he was blue with cold, and Sirius was waiting for him by the fireplace with a heated blanket. The two of them snuggled up by the fire.

"Remus, I need to tell you something," Sirius murmured. "Please don't be mad at me."

"Did you go rummaging through my underwear drawer again?" Remus guessed, and Sirius barked.

"No, not since the last time," he said, laughing.

"Then what is it?"

Sirius inhaled deeply and spat it out in one sentence: "Idon'tlikechocolate."

"I'm sorry, what now?" Remus nudged him.

"I don't like chocolate."

There was a moment of silence in which Remus temporarily stopped breathing and Sirius tensed.

"You...you don't like chocolate?" the former breathed.

"I'm sorry." Sirius used his best puppy eyes.

Remus inhaled sharply. "What sort of a monster doesn't like chocolate?"

Sirius felt a stab of shame. "Does that mean I'm a monster?"

"No, no, you're not," Remus snapped, apparently deep in thought. "I'm just...trying to figure it out. Why you don't like chocolate. It's baffling."

Sirius whimpered like a dog. "I'll just...go now."

"Wait." Remus caught hold of his wrist. "Don't. We can figure it out."

"Okay, I can do that." Sirius sat back down. "I'm not telling you, though."

"Then I'll have to use other methods of persuasion." Remus tickled Sirius's stomach and the two of them fell into a tangled heap of limbs.

(James nearly threw up in his mouth as they started to passionately snog and practically sprinted away from the room.)

(Neither of them heard him, wrapped up in kissing each other.)

* * *

 _718 words_

* * *

Auction: Action: Tickling

 **Writing Club**

Character App: (setting) Hogwarts

Disney Challenge - Hakuna Matata - Write about a laid back character.

Creature Feature - A Bao A Qu: (word) invisible, Actaeon: (word) transgression

Book Club - The Blue Man: (color)blue, (action) waiting for someone, (emotion) shame

CYB - "What sort of a monster doesn't like chocolate?"

EE - Ogodei Khan - write about someone who is very charismatic

SS - Title: Monsters, Sexuality: LGBT representation


	58. Forever

**For Crystal- Happy birthday!**

* * *

It should be a felony to be good-looking. Tall, dark, and handsome especially should be illegal.

(Because Seamus is a sucker for those kind of men, and the art instructor aboard his cruise ship fits exactly that description.)

Seamus has been working with Dean for two years, and every single moment of those two years he's been in love with him. He knows that Dean is attracted to him too, but there's only one rule set by the Cruise Committee keeping them apart: the infamous "no inter-crew relationships" rule.

But that didn't mean they couldn't secretly meet up behind everyone else's back and have a dalliance.

* * *

Seamus was walking along the main corridor leading to the front of the ship when a hand seized him by the wrist and yanked him into darkness, which wrapped its arms around him and blanketed his vision. The little sliver of light that was streaming through the door vanished as the door was closed.

Next thing he knew, he was being pushed into a wall and being kissed very feverishly. From the taste of the lips and the texture of the hair, it was Dean.

Seamus didn't even have time to respond before Dean pulled away, both of them breathing hard.

"I missed you," Dean gasped between pants.

"I missed you too." Seamus groped blindly in the darkness and his hand latched on Dean's arm. "Come back here."

And when his lips connected with Dean's, it was like bliss all over again.

* * *

Lavender was very persistent, Seamus was learning. She kept stroking his arm, fluttering her eyelashes, and Seamus was growing more and more uncomfortable by the second.

His eyes caught Dean's, who was sitting at another table with his fellow instructors. He was conversing with Harry, the swimming instructor, but his eyes kept darting to Seamus.

"...and he just kept on kissing her!" Lavender finished dramatically and Seamus started; he had tuned out most of her story in favor of staring at Dean.

"How tragic," he said dryly, but the poor girl didn't catch on; she launched into another story and Seamus decided he had had enough.

"Lav, I'm sorry, but I have to go do something," he interrupted her mid-sentence. "I'll see you around."

And before she could protest, he ripped his arm away from her grip, stood, and hurried out of the room.

He made his way to the captain's private quarters, the only place he knew he would be alone. After all, no one entered without a key, and he had only given it to two people: Dean and his first mate.

Seamus stood at the railing that overlooked the expanse of sea and took calming deep breaths. The breeze blew around him and ruffled his hair.

There was a knock and Seamus answered it. It was Dean, his eyes dark and his posture imposing. He had a powerful aura around him.

"I need you," he said and kicking the door shut, he grabbed Seamus's collar and hauled him in.

The kiss he placed against his lips was searing, but it contained a hint of possessiveness. Seamus smiled against his lips; he knew why Dean was so hungry.

"Mine," his lover growled, his lips ghosting his jaw and biting into his neck. "Mine."

Seamus was in heaven, and he wanted this to last, so he fumbled for the button on Dean's khakis. Dean wasted no time in helping him, undoing the zipper and sliding his pants down. Seamus repeated the same for his own pants and now both of them stood, their bodies meshed together, and a noticeable bulge in their boxers.

If this was what heaven felt like, Seamus would stay there forever in ecstasy.

* * *

 _616 words_

* * *

 **Writing Club:** Char App: (word) Last; Shannon's Showcase: (title) Forever, (theme) Love; CYB - (word) dalliance; Lyric Alley - My own secret ceremonials; AAA: The Implant - (emotion) Jealousy; Liza's Loves - (AUs) Cruise Ship & Secret Relationship

 **Auction:** Cruise Ship!AU

 **Chocolate Frog Cards** \- (Bronze) Ramora - Challenge: Your story must take place on a ship.

 **Scavenger Hunt -** Write a gift fic for someone in your house

 **Film Festival -** 18\. Character: Jealous Co-worker/Classmate


	59. pain (tearing through my limbs)

Her disowning was bittersweet.

On one hand, she was finally free to be with Septimus, live the life she had merely dreamed about before. She had dreamt of marrying and having children, and dying with her children around her bedside. Overall, an idyllic life, devoid of her family's prejudices.

On the other hand, however, her name was burned off of the Black family tapestry (which was of minor significance to her) and along with it, the memories of her childhood, which had been privileged and easy. Now, without any money to her name, she was struggling to make ends meet.

Septimus was always willing to help her, especially with escaping her family's lurking shadows, and she appreciated that. But, no matter how much she ran, her past always caught up to her.

Charis and Callidora spoke to her no more, going as far as to ignore her. They had always been the good children, had married respectable, pureblooded men, and had produced heirs. But Cedrella had rebelled, and now as far as her parents were concerned, they had only two daughters. Cedrella was nothing but a mere traitor and disgrace to their family.

And it hurt her more than she let on.

Septimus, of course, being the ever perceptive one, caught on faster than anyone else. He was her rock, her stable foothold, the only thing keeping her from falling into her family's chasm of darkness. She was and would be eternally grateful to him for being there for her when no one else was.

They were married in a private, small ceremony in which there were a few attendees, but not one of Cedrella's family were among them. It pained her, ripped at her heart with a scalding knife, but she resolutely locked her hurt away. What she had done was right, and she was not guilty of anything, nor did she owe her family anything.

But that didn't mean it didn't hurt.

* * *

 _324 words_

* * *

Auction: Cedrella Black

Writing Club: Disney - Write about someone who feels like an outcast; AAA - (word) traitor


	60. Church Bells

In this drabble, they're telepathically communicating, hence the italics.

* * *

For Butter - Jily with flirting :)

* * *

 _It's amazing, isn't it? Seeing the moon from this perspective?_

James's thought invaded her mind as the two of them were pressed against the window of the space shuttle. She smiled.

 _It's beautiful._

James smirked cockily. _Just like someone else I know._

Lily blushed and lightly punched him in the arm. _What does that even mean?_

 _Duh, isn't it obvious?_ His demeanor changed from flirtatious to admiration. _You're the most beautiful girl on this planet._

 _Well, we're not on a planet right now, are we?_ She smirked as the meaning of his own words dawned on his face.

 _Well, at least in this space shuttle,_ he amended. _You know what I mean._

 _I do._ She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. _And I happen to think you're the most handsome man on this rocket._

It was comical, watching him caught off guard and force-fed a taste of his own medicine. Triumph painted Lily's face and James pointed at her accusatorily.

 _Hey, that's not fair!_

 _Well, if you flirt with me, what else do you expect me to do, ignore it?_

 _You did that for the past seven years. You tease._

 _Flirt._

 _Sweetheart._

 _Darling._

 _Munchkin._

 _Popsicle._

 _...Popsicle?_

 _First thing that popped in my mind._

 _You couldn't have gone with something more traditional, like sweetie pie or hot stuff?_

 _...is that your ego talking?_

 _Come on, you can't deny it! You did admit it a minute ago._

 _I don't recall._ Lily smugly crossed her arms.

 _You said "you're the most handsome man on this rocket."_

 _I recall saying no such thing._

 _You did!_

 _I didn't_ say _it._

 _...oh shut up._

 _Don't tell your girlfriend to shut up._

 _You're being an arse._ James pouted.

 _...excuse me? Mind repeating that?_ Lily glared at him.

James backed down, because he valued his life. _No_.

 _I thought so. You're lucky I agreed to marry you._

* * *

 _300 words_

* * *

Pokemon - (pokeball) Church Bells, (prompts) Word: Admire, Dialogue: "What does that even mean?". Trait: flirtatious

Auction: Space!AU

Scavenger Hunt: Write about your OTP

Photography - Astrophotography: Write a Space!AU

 **Writing Club:** Days of the Month - National Space Day - Write a Space!AU; AAA - Mind Control - (plot) People can communicate telepathically,


	61. hold steady (better times are coming)

Crafty Cooking - Apple - Character: Draco Malfoy, Object: The Sorting Hat

Auction: The Fat Friar

* * *

 _Slytherin, Slytherin, nothing but Slytherin,_ Draco prays, his hands clenched together.

Somehow, the Sorting Hat disputes his choice. Afraid of disappointing your parents, huh?

I'm not scared of my parents, he argues. I'm just loyal to them.

Loyal, hmmm. The Hat sounds thoughtful and Draco braces himself. "Better be HUFFLEPUFF!"

Draco's ears are ringing and it takes him a moment to realize what the hat had declared. "I'm sorry," he said, trying to keep his voice steady, "but did you just say Hufflepuff?"

The hat is motionless, but it seems to be smirking. Draco scowls.

"Answer me, you rag!" he shouts.

The hat deliberately chooses to remain silent, fueling the flame in Draco. He scowls crossly.

He feels the weight of a thousand stares as he takes the hat off, his legs trembling. Shakily, he stumbles to the table clad in yellow and snaps coarsely, "Budge over."

The seat beneath him is cold, but it's nothing compared to the icy feeling in his chest. When his parents find out, he's going to be in big, big trouble.

* * *

It was long night of tossing and turning with the boulder sitting in his stomach. He hardly sleeps that night, dreading the following morning.

Sure enough, a letter arrives in the mail the next morning among the clamor of owls. The regal barn looks disapproving him, a sneak preview of the contents of the letter.

He carefully lifts the top, taking care not to damage the crest, and unfolds the creamy parchment.

 _Dear Draco,_

 _We heard you were Sorted into Hufflepuff and words cannot express how deeply disappointed we are in you. You've disgraced the Malfoy name. Unfortunately, we cannot disown, due to the Ministry's laws ad our own integrity. Consider yourself lucky, Draco._

The letter went on about what he should do since he had been apparently been Sorted into the wrong house, and what etiquette he should enforce. After five minutes, he decided to put away, deeming it too unworthy to read in the morning.

"Is something ailing you?" said a kind voice, and Draco whips around to see...a ghost.

A ghost smiling warmly at him.

 _To hell with it..._

"My family thinks I'm inadequate just because of my Sorting," Draco confesses. "They're upset with me."

The ghost's hand reaches forward and it slides easily through Draco's shoulder, an icy sensation accompanying it.

"Then they don't know anything about Hufflepuffs," he says firmly. "Hufflepuffs are the most loving people you'll ever meet. You'll have a good time here, I promise."

Draco isn't entirely comforted, but he smiles regardless. "Thanks. Who are you?"

"I'm the Fat Friar," the ghost says. "Welcome to Hufflepuff."

* * *

 _441 words_


	62. begrudgingly obliging

"C'mon, it won't hurt!" wheedled Sirius, unleashing the full force of his puppy-dog eyes. "Just a harmless little accessory!"

James eyed the _thing_ in his hand with the revulsion of someone looking at Satan's waste. "I would rather die," he stated frankly. "Padfoot, this is meant for _women._ Not men."

"I see no problem then," said person answered airily.

James hurled the thing at him and Sirius dodged swiftly, laughing.

This "thing" that was causing the kerfuffle? The lacy garter now lying on the ground a few feet away from Sirius.

"Padfoot, I will murder you," James threatened, "then cremate you, so no part of you or your torment remains."

Sirius's eyes widened and he threw himself on the ground melodramatically, wailing, "Oh, my poor, unblemished body! You will not spare it, you heartless man?"

"Padfoot," Remus spoke up, "you have a rash on your arm."

James let out a barking laugh and Sirius immediately scrambled to his feet, and indeed, there was a raw patch which was reddening rapidly.

"So much for my unblemished skin," he said, sighing.

"Going back to me," James interrupted, glaring daggers at Sirius, "I am not wearing that godforsaken scrap of lace. You'll have to tie me down to do it."

It was Remus who pulled out the final card. "Lily wants you to wear it."

* * *

"Did you wear the garter?"

"I did. Want to see it?"

"Oh, I'd like to do more than that..."

* * *

241 words

* * *

Auction: Plot point: husband wearing a wedding garter


	63. you're coffee (so addicting)

**Auction: Scenario: I purposely get your coffee order wrong just so you'll talk to me again.**

* * *

Draco's at the counter one morning, manning the register, and half-asleep. The bell jangles merrily and he shoots up, rapidly wiping his face.

He realizes a second later that that was the right thing to do, because the man who just walked in is the finest specimen on the planet.

He has unruly yet soft-looking locks of ebony, which he runs his hand through as he enters and Draco's fingers itch. His eyes are a stunning emerald, not bleak and hard but gleaming with the light of a thousand stars. He's deliciously tan and his arms are defined. He has a sports jacket on.

Suddenly, Draco wishes he was wearing more fashionable clothes than the dull work uniform he's currently clad in.

And then, as if it couldn't get any worse, the gorgeous specimen _speaks._ His voice is rich and deep as he says, "Can I have a caramel latte, please?"

Draco squeaks out something akin to a _yes,_ rings him up (as he not-so-subtly ogles his new eye candy), and scrambles to the back.

 _I totally made a fool of myself back there,_ he thinks dejectedly, and then a lightbulb goes off. _What if...what if I did something to his drink in order to get a second chance at not making a fool of myself?_

 _Brilliant,_ he thinks happily, mentally patting himself on his back.

Draco deliberately screws with his order and makes a caramel cappuccino instead of a caramel latte.

When he shuffles back out, his eye candy is waiting to the side, chatting with some woman. She has curly brown hair and is extremely pretty. His heart sinks. He must be taken, then.

Oh well.

He decides to give the wrong drink to him anyway, as a self-inflicted punishment.

"Here's your order," he says, masking his despondence with a bright smile. "Enjoy."

"Thanks." The man flashes him a beaming smile and Draco's heart melts.

He holds his breath. Two minutes. It takes two minutes for a customer to realize their drink was not the right one.

Sure enough, two minutes later, the man comes up, a confused expression on his face. "This isn't what I ordered."

Go time.

"I'm terribly sorry, Mr..."

"Harry," says the man. "Just Harry."

* * *

 _371 words_


	64. i don't want the world to see me

_You don't understand._

The words are unspoken, but clear to the naked eye. She's in pain, she doesn't want to speak.

 _You don't know what it feels like._

Her hands are stained with invisible blood, the blood of her rival, her enemy. She can still remember the spell that hit her, and the syllables, one by one, crumble in her mouth. Tears drip into her kitchen sink, melting as they impact the surface.

 _You don't know the burden I have to carry every day._

She carries on with life, plastering a smile on her face, but it's clear that she's suffering inside. Many a man and woman try to comfort her, but she is beyond comfort. She needs closure. She needs a reason, some justification for her rash actions that day.

 _I want you to know that I regret what I did._

She visits her grave. The grave right outside of Azkaban. It is cold, empty, and the headstone seems dreary. A cold wind billows around hair, chilling her to the bone, but she doesn't care. She's here for _her._

The gravestone reads _Bellatrix Black-Lestrange_ and underneath, _Toujours Pur,_ her family's sacred motto. And she knew that Bellatrix had lived up to that, tarnishing her reputation but upholding her family's twisted values.

And that's when Molly knows she's found closure.

* * *

220 words

* * *

Auction: Kitchen Sink - Twenty-One Pilots


	65. who said we couldn't be?

It comes out of nowhere.

Ariana is an intriguing girl, a girl who has had a troubled past. His mind feasts on her history, her _story._

(Why did her mother keep her cooped up in house? Why was her magic so out of control? He has so many questions brimming in his mind, spilling out of his lips.)

He gets his chances on his visits in and out of Aberforth's pub. Aberforth is a kind, giving soul, as much as he hates admitting it. He doesn't like him questioning Ariana so deeply, but when he hears that Neville is out to disprove Rita Skeeter's lies, he is more than willing to comply.

It's one of the things that keeps him alive, tethered to Earth, under the Carrows' merciless reign over Hogwarts. His visits to Ariana's portrait are the highlights in a dark and gloomy time.

Ariana is at first reluctant to divulge information so readily. However, when Aberforth reassures her that it is for a good cause, she begins to give out tidbits of her story.

And there are some more mysteries woven inside her stories. Neville takes notes, captivated by her easy grace, and wonders why this girl was considered so unfeeling. Because Ariana is the most beautiful girl he knows.

* * *

 _212 words_

* * *

Auction: NevilleAriana


	66. what was never said

It was unrequited love. It was love from afar.

In Padma's defense, she didn't expect to fall so hard and so fast.

But how could she not? Cedric was charismatic, handsome, kind, and had a good-sized brain in his head- it was a wonder he was a Hufflepuff. He should've been put in Ravenclaw.

But fate was fate, she supposed. Fate had decided to separate them, for him to fall for a girl that wasn't her.

Cho Chang. She was his ideal woman. His soulmate. The yang to his yin.

It wasn't fair. It really, truly wasn't.

Cho Chang was the essence of perfection. And Padma couldn't deny it, she hated her with a fiery passion. Hated her, for being so high and mighty, that she had won the heart of the handsome Hufflepuff champion. She paraded him around like he was a trophy, and he was too lovesick and infatuated with her to notice.

But Padma noticed. And she was as jealous as hell, but there was nothing she could do about it.

And now, he was gone. And now, she had to deal with the ghost of what she had never said. That was the worst punishment of all.

* * *

 _201 words_

* * *

Auction: CedricPadma


	67. leaping time (arthur)

It's a true feat how much this machine has improved. It's a strange but incredible machine.

The problem is, Arthur doesn't know what it does, oddly enough. It looks funny, but that's enough for him.

Since he was a child, he's always been fascinated by Muggle objects. This curious object he had found lying in the street, apparently abandoned. It was smack dab in the middle of day when he had found it, so he had pocketed it and continued along his merry way.

For the last six hours, he had been trying to fruitlessly identify the trinket, then tinkered with it until sparks had shot out from it, nearly singing the cuff of his sleeve. He had sweat matting his hair, smudges on his arms, and frustrated to no end.

Overall, very, very hopeless.

He tapped the trinket a few times, pondering the deeper mechanisms, and that's when there was a bright flash of light, nearly blinding him, and then he was being spun around in dizzying circles.

When his feet collided with the solid ground, he promptly lost his balance and fell forward, landing on his face. Soft grass met his nose, tickling inside his nostrils.

He sat up, wondering _Where am I?_

* * *

205 words

* * *

Auction: Future Time Travel


	68. find a way

Hermione winces as there's another frustrated roar, a _clang_ of a sword, followed by vehement cursing.

She's eavesdropping on her father, who is preparing for a war. A daunting prospect, she must admit. Her father is so gentle and kind—it is hard watching him prepare for something so brutal.

It doesn't help that her father is old. He doesn't like to admit it, because it brings down his morale. But he is not as agile and speedy he was. There's no way he'll survive. He will most likely due, or if he's lucky, wounded.

Unless...if she took his place in his stead.

It's the perfect plan. She's young, so she'll easily pass as an innocent warrior. She's stealthy, so she can sneak off when her parents are asleep.

And most of all, she's willing to serve. No one can turn down a fresh soldier, can they?

Her father is kneeling by the altar, a battered sword at his feet. He is stiff in his ancient armor, but he prays anyway for safety and victory, to return to his family no matter what.

Hermione's heart swells in her chest. She'll make sure he doesn't have to leave. She will keep his promise.

* * *

 _202 words_

* * *

Auction: Mulan


	69. baby steps

His first true friend.

Not one set up by his overbearing parents.

And that too, his new friend was Harry Potter, the boy who lived. The boy, who had survived a Killing Curse, was now his friend.

And what a friend he was. He lent his Chocolate Frogs to Draco on the Hogwarts Express. They had exchanged stories while the scenery rolled past, a sea of greens and yellows.

Harry was an amazing friend. Too bad he was sorted into Gryffindor, just like his famous parents. Draco, similarly, had succeeded his own parents by being sorted into Slytherin.

He'd written excitedly to his parents, exclaiming over his new best friend, what they did together, how they got along.

His parents had written back, praising him on his new friendship, claiming this was the best time to form alliances. He didn't understand what that meant at the time, but he was just happy that his parents approved.

They shared many laughs, many cries, many late night study sessions in the library. They endured the taunting from their respective houses. Draco didn't stand for it, while Harry got his revenge later. He was James's son, after all.

Draco was proud of his new ability to make friends without his parents intervening. He would use it for many years to come.

* * *

 _218 words_

* * *

Auction: Headcanon: All of Draco's friendships as a young child had been set up by his parents, so imagine his happiness when he finally made one by himself.


	70. forever bound

James isn't brave.

He'a not brave enough to leave his family, his friends, and Lily and the unborn baby growing inside of her stomach. That's his child in there, their creation.

But he has to. There's a war on, and if he doesn't go, the government will take away everything he holds dear. The benefits of going do not outweigh the consequences. It's the threat of losing everything he loves is the driving force.

He really doesn't want to leave. But Lily tells him there's a special kind of brave, the kind of brave he is utilizing currently.

He is leaving everything he loves for the sake of his country. He is reluctant, but he is determined. He is hell bent on returning home, even if it's just a corpse.

And that kind of bravery, says Lily, is the rarest kind. He is one of the few who possesses it.

(He thinks Lily is trying to make her feel better by saying these things, but he does not reiterate this.)

He kisses her goodbye, kisses her stomach, and reassures the both of them that he will come back. They are his family, and they are his. Nothing could ever rip him away from them.

* * *

204 words

* * *

Auction: Trait - Brave


	71. trial and error

"Are you using the Confundus Charm or are you just naturally mind blowing?"

Scorpius is trying to flirt with Rose again. Albus closes his eyes and prays that no one gets hurt.

"Go away, Malfoy," Rose replies coldly.

"Come on, just one date?" he wheedles, looking at her imploringly.

She doesn't cave. Her expression merely grows colder. "No means no, Malfoy," she says firmly. "Now get out of my face before I tell Madam Pince you are harassing me."

 _Ouch._ Albus cringes as Scorpius's face falls and he shuffles dejectedly back to their table.

"Another rejection," he confirms, crestfallen. "And I was sure that line would work!"

As much as he feels bad for his best mate, he has to be frank. It's how they balance each other out: Scorpius is an idealist, and Albus is a realist.

"Listen, mate, I don't think pick-up lines are going to work on someone like Rose," he states candidly.

"Then what should I do?"

"Try something more meaningful, like flowers or poems," he suggests. "If you send her flowers, intentionally include the meanings of the flowers."

"That's a good idea," Scorpius says thoughtfully. "Thanks."

"No problem. We're friends for a reason, aren't we?"

* * *

 _200 words_

* * *

Auction: Dialogue - "Are you using the Confundus Charm or are you just naturally mind blowing?"


	72. Ice Cold Hands

_His dreams are nightmarish. He can hear his mother screaming, his father shouting, and two flashes of green light are seen. He can hear the thud as their bodies fall, but he cannot see anything, because darkness clouds his vision. All he can feel is the ice cold hands of agony clutching him._

 _"Teddy, wake up!"_

A gasp escapes his throat as he bolts upright. Vic is shaking him, and her beautiful azure eyes are wild with fear. "Teddy, are you okay?"

His head is spinning. "I'm fine."

Vic bites her lip. "Are you sure?"

"I'm-" And then, he doubles over and promptly spews.

* * *

"I'm too young to die," Teddy whines.

"I'm pretty sure you've just got the flu," Vicretorts, wiping his head with a cool, wet cloth. "Stop being a baby. You'll get better."

Teddy pouts. "Why are you being so mean to me?"

"Because you're not a child anymore, and you have a thick skull," she says sharply. "Now be quiet and hold still."

Teddy falls silent. He stays quiet for approximately one minute before a question bubbles up to his lips.

"You're perfection, you know?" he says. "You're perfect."

Vic blushes. "Why do you say that?"

"You're taking care of me even though I'm sick," he says. "You're the only one who didn't run away at the sight of me throwing up buckets. You have either a stomach made of steel, or you really care about me."

Vic avoids his eyes, her cheeks still red. "I do care about you," she mumbles. "I want you to feel better."

Teddy lifts his hand - though it costs him a tremendous effort - and pushes her jaw slightly so that her eyes meet his.

"Thanks, Vic," he says softly, withdrawing his hand. And then, three words spill out of his mouth. "I love you."

He watches as Vic's eyes widen and her hand goes slack on his forehead. Her legs are trembling and her mouth gapes.

"Y-You love me? _Me?"_

"No, the other Vic in the room," he quips, rolling his eyes. "I mean you, silly."

Vic laughs weakly at his humor, apparently still in shock. He elaborates on his prior statement.

"I love you, Vic Weasley," he says, heartfelt. "I love you for you. You're gorgeous, true, but you're also the kindest and wittiest girl I know. I know you're not ready to say it, but I think my feelings are requited."

And then he falls back into the bed, his confession having drained him of a lot of energy, but it is worth seeing the look on Vic's face. She looks astonished, which melts into adoration.

"I love you too, goofball," she says. "If you weren't so ill, I would kiss you right now."

Teddy almost vomits again, but out of happiness.

* * *

 _His dreams are better tonight. He's in a meadow and he's sixteen again, but this time around, Vic is with him, looking as stunning as ever. She looks like a heavenly vision, her eyes sparkling with mirth, and Teddy falls again._

 _The ice cold hands bother him no longer, and they will not return as long as Vic is here._

* * *

 _523 words_

* * *

Pokemon - Marowak - Pokeball: Ice Cold Hands, Prompts: (word) perfection, (word) meadow, (dialogue) "I'm too young to die." / "I'm pretty sure you've just got the flu."

 **Writing Club:** Char App - (character) Teddy Lupin; Disney - Write about a moment where things change forever.; Showtime - Castle on a Cloud - (plot point) Dreaming of someone; Lyric Alley - And I had a dream; AAA - I Have Heard the Future - (era) Next-Gen

Crafty Cooking - Chocolate Chips - Era: Next-Gen


	73. electricity

Bill had _not_ signed up for this.

His eyes kept straying the cute - no, _pretty_ \- girl sitting next to him, with her silvery-blonde hair twisted up into an elegant bun and her blue eyes, which were fascinated as he demonstrates how to do the toughest problem on their algebra homework. It's actually simple to him, but he takes great care to explain the steps patiently, gazing into her mesmerizing eyes.

"You're so _smart!"_ Fleur says as he circles the final answer. "How-?"

"Practice," he says, and then he freezes as she touches his arm. Electricity races up through his veins, burning hot.

Fleur has stilled too, and he numbly thinks _huh._


	74. only for the deserving

_"Lily!"_ The banshee-like shriek reverberates through the house, and Lily sighs.

"Wish me luck," she says to her owl, who merely cocks her head to the side. Lily plasters an innocent expression on her face and ventures out into the hallway.

Petunia is standing at the other end, looking more enraged than a bull, steam literally pouring out of her ears.

"I hate you!" she screams, running her hands through her now bubblegum-pink hair.

"I love you too, honey," Lily quips, smirking sardonically.

(In her opinion, her sister deserves it. Earlier, Petunia had been prancing about, bragging about her posh new boyfriend, so Lily, fed up, had slipped something into her afternoon tea.)

Petunia glares at her sister, glowering. "I have a date with Vernon tonight, you know, and if I can't wash this off, you're a dead woman."

Lily rolls her eyes, twirling her wand in her hand. "For that, I should've just made this hairdo permanent."

Petunia makes a guttural noise that _shouldn't_ come out of _anyone's_ mouth and storms off to the washroom, while Lily, delirious on victory and euphoria, skips back into her room, where she resumes penning her letter to Marlene.

* * *

Pranks are way more fun when you're the pranker, and your prey is someone that you dislike.

Petunia, for example, is one of Lily's favorite targets. She is two things that make for a perfect prankee: meriting, and very prone to making a scene.

They are at the beach and unbeknownst to Petunia, Lily has swapped her sunscreen for suntan lotion. Petunia is unsuspecting.

By the time the sun goes down, Petunia is as brown as a walrus and hasn't noticed yet, and Lily and her parents are trying to stifle their laughter. This is fruitless, and finally Lily cracks.

"Look in a mirror," she says.

Petunia pulls out her hand mirror and promptly releases an ear-piercing shriek, and everyone else starts howling. Even Lily's mother, who is generally disapproving of pranks, is doubled over.

And there is only one person to blame for all of this.

 _"Lily!"_

* * *

Lily was fuming.

Absolutely fuming.

And that never heralded good results.

First, Petunia had deliberately invited her boyfriend over the same night Lily had brought James home to meet her parents. And then, she had had the gall to spend every single moment boasting about their engagement. And finally, she had done it all while staring at Lily smugly.

But oh boy, she had no idea what she was in for. And with James, the master pranker to help her, they had no difficulties getting their revenge on the "happy couple."

…

James and Lily compile a list of pranks that they could pull on Petunia and receive the best reaction, whether magical or not.

The first prank is her idea.

Petunia marches into Lily's room while she and James are playing cards, bright crimson and wielding deodorant. But it's really isn't deodorant.

It's butter.

Butter is splattered like ladybug spots on her abnormally brown arms. Lily snorts and James lets out a bark of laughter and Petunia, if possible, reddens even more.

"You think you're so funny," she hisses, nostrils flaring, "but really, you're just embarrassing yourselves."

Lily can't help it; she dissolves into a fit of giggles. "Look at the pot calling the kettle black," she says to James in between giggles.

Petunia scowls, and having no clever repartee, flounces out of the room.

* * *

The second prank is better than the first.

James writes to his mates and they arrive the very next day on Lily's doorstep. Extra guests, however, do not faze Mrs. Evans, especially if they are friends of Lily's.

She welcomes them in, makes them tea, and then they get down to business.

The pranking business, that is.

…

The pranks come relentlessly. A whoopee cushion, laxatives in his tea, and a peppermint toad is enough to take care of Vernon and humiliate him one night.

As for Petunia, well...it was interesting. Sirius sneaks into her bedroom at night and gives her a permanent mustache. Peter transforms into a rat and crawls into her bed (an experience that was petrifying for the both of them). James plasters photos of himself all over her walls.

These pranks are juvenile, and they are all culprits, but it's fun seeing Petunia steadily grow more furious with them, but having to rein in her temper because the next morning, Vernon's parents arrive.

She puts on a pleasant facade, but it's plain to anyone that's she clearly upset.

And Lily glows with triumph.

* * *

 _World Cup - **Morocco** vs. Iran - (dialogue) "I hate you!"/ "I love you too, honey."_

 _Eagle Day - Penelope Clearwater - (object) hand mirror, (word) petrified_

 _Seasonal Challenges - Days: National Sisters Day_

 _Writing Club - Disney: Write about sisters; Amber's Attic: Habanero_

 _WC: 756 (by gdocs)_


	75. bring it on (jily)

The boy at the concession stand is, in her opinion, unfairly gorgeous. Caramel skin, bright hazel eyes, and a fit body—in Lily's book, that's a recipe for disaster.

She and Mary are at the movie theatre, watching the latest Star Wars film (Lily for the second time), when Mary suddenly has a burning craving for a snack. And naturally, she guilt-trips Lily into getting it for her, claiming, "You've seen this movie already."

Lily swears at her, but it's easy for Mary to ignore her, as the movie is loud. A few fellow moviegoers shush her.

Lily's temper is boiling by the time she reaches the concessions area, which is empty, save for the employees.

However, her anger melts away as the delectable scent of popcorn fills the air.

 _Mmm_.

But she's totally unprepared for the attractive boy to greet her at the counter, messy-haired and smiling brilliantly.

Lily's tongue goes dry and her tongue feels like a dead weight in her mouth. She _hates_ being so vulnerable around boys, especially good-looking ones.

"Hi," she says, scuffing her violet shoes.

The boy (good lord, he's hot) replies smoothly, "Hello."

"Can I have a pretzel, please?" she asks shakily.

"You can buy it," he replies wittily.

Her anxiety fades. _So that's how it is?_ Her competitive streak rears its head. _Bring it on._


	76. in the palms of our hands

She grins wickedly, poison dripping from her voice, and her eyes are chips of ice. She can break someone with a single word. She is pretty with danger in her eyes.

She has a reputation as the queen of Slytherin to Draco's king. They are the power duet, singing a song of hatred and promise.

And somehow, some way, though the fearsome ice queen is unattainable, Susan falls for her anyway.

* * *

Daphne never really notices her in the beginning. She blends into the crowd, a bystander. She's average, no one special.

But that all changes one fateful day.

Daphne is teaching a Mudblood a lesson. A well-deserved lesson. A lesson taught through taunts and spells.

But then, someone dares to interfere.

" _Protego!"_ A girl with vibrant crimson hair and flashing brown eyes steps forward, her wand held aloft.

Daphne spins, infuriated that her curse had been blocked, and the crowd is stunned silent.

"How dare you," she snarls. "You lowly filth, how dare you."

The girl is quivering— _good, she should be—_ but her voice is strong. "The only filth here is standing right in front of me."

Daphne reels back, astonished at the guts this girl possessed. Did she have a death wish?

"You're one to talk!" she spits, and with a quick twirl of her wand, the girl is sent spiraling backwards.

Daphne smirks, turning to the defenseless child at her feet, preparing to finish them off. But she's about to open her mouth when she is interrupted. Again.

" _Expelliarmus!"_ The redheaded girl comes storming out of nowhere and disarms Daphne. Her wand shoots out of her hand and clatters to the ground. Daphne whirls.

The girl's eyes are flaming and she's not shaking anymore. "Stop," she commands firmly. "I'm not afraid of stunning you or doing whatever's necessary to stop you from torturing innocent people."

Daphne's upper hand is rapidly crumbling and she stares dumbfoundedly at the girl, a single though crossing her mind: _Who the hell is she?_

"This isn't over," she snaps. "You had better watch your back."

"I'll be ready," the girl retorts.

* * *

True to her word, Daphne tries to attack her again. But Susan, true to _her_ word, is ready.

Daphne retreats, muttering sullenly under her breath, and Susan is grinning victoriously. Never had she thought that she would have an edge over Slytherin's ice queen, but then again, she did.

* * *

Daphne is humiliated. Embarrassed. Enraged. Intrigued.

Susan Bones is going to be the death of her. Susan, with her wild hair and even wilder eyes and temperament, she could give Daphne a run for her money.

And Daphne is not happy, but it's true. And she's constantly ribbed for it. Her status as queen of Slytherin is unceremoniously ripped away, no matter how much she clings to her dwindling power.

And when the rug is truly yanked out from under her feet, she runs.

And surprisingly, it's Susan who finds her, tucked away in an alcove hidden from everyone else, her eyes rimmed with red.

It's Susan who comforts her, even though they're rivals.

And Daphne finds hope.

* * *

 _514 words_

 _World Cup:_ _ **Morocco**_ _v Portugal, DaphneSusan_


	77. i don't love you (but i might)

**Because I'm Miraculous Ladybug trash, here you go.**

 **For Sophy, because you understand my agony :)**

* * *

Lily is in the middle of watching a daytime television soap opera marathon and laughing at the sheer idiocy of the plot when the ground quakes and screams ring out. She groans, mutters a few choice obscenities, and calls her kwami.

"Tikki, there's an akuma!"

The kwami is at her side in an instant. "But I thought he had declared a ceasefire—"

"Apparently not, the little bastard," Lily growls. " _Tikki, spots on!"_

* * *

The Crimson Charmer—who Ladybug dubs CC, because she's too damn lazy—is twenty feet tall and leaving footprints in the earth the size of a railway car. It is an advantage for her, though, it makes it _way_ easier to track the akuma.

(And the height and screams are a dead giveaway too. If CC is trying to be stealthy, she isn't doing a good job at it.)

The akuma is stampeding through Westminster Bridge when Lily arrives with her yoyo, and to her horror, has an _army_ behind her, marching dutifully and wearing— _were those red wigs?_

Ladybug grits her teeth.

"Is that your kin, bugaboo?" Chat Noir bounds gracefully to her side and perches on the ledge with her.

"Oh hush," Ladybug snaps, tetchy. It's bad enough that she and the akuma have something in common, but Chat Noir making jokes about it?

"I don't think I'm _red_ -y for this battle," Chat plows on, ignoring her. "Are you—?"

"Haha, very funny," Ladybug deadpans, rolling her eyes. "Now can we concentrate on the akuma?"

(Is she really in love with this idiot?)

Chat purses his lips. "Only if you're—"

"If you make another pun, so help me god, I will end you," she interrupts him brusquely. Then she pauses.

"But you're too cute to do that," she continues, winking. "So I won't do it."

And she leaps away, a triumphant smirk painted on her lips and (hopefully) gobsmacked Chat Noir behind her.

* * *

 _Did she just_ —?

That girl was a sly _minx._

He shakes his head, returning to Earth. He likes someone. He likes Lily Evans, and Ladybug flirting is not going to change that.

But there's something about Ladybug that makes his heart beat a little bit faster, but that's no comparison to the gymnastics routine his heart performs when he's with Lily. He likes Lily, and only Lily.

Right?

Ladybug's scream rips him away from his thoughts. She's tied up in her yoyo string and the akuma is hovering over her, closing in rapidly.

And Chat Noir doesn't think. He acts.

He launches himself towards her and throws his staff at the akuma's back. The akuma turns, only to get hit by the end of the staff and sent reeling backwards, away from Ladybug.

He lands swiftly by her side and helps to unravel the yoyo string. "Are you okay?" And then, he adds to lighten the mood, "Chat Noir to the rescue!"

(They're partners. They look out for each other. That's all. It has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he can't bear to see her hurt. He cares about her in a platonic way.)

(Right?)

"I'm okay, thanks," says Ladybug breathlessly, pushing back a lock of red hair that has escaped from her pigtails. A new fire ignites in her eyes. "Let's go kick that akuma's ass."

And she races toward Crimson Charmer with determination, and Chat is left to stare after her, with the memory of those orbs of blazing emerald imprinted in his eyes.

* * *

 _FYI, Crimson Charmer was akumatized because someone insulted her red hair :))_

 _572 words_

* * *

 **World Cup -** _Spain vs_ _ **Morocco**_ **\- Superhero!AU**

 **Eastern Funfair - Ferris Wheel - "[Name] to the rescue!"**

 **Writing Club: Char App - Trait: Loyal; EE - Superhero!AU**

 **Seasonal Challenges - Days: National Superman Day - Write a Superhero!AU**

 **Best Friends Day -** **lily evans (character), emerald (colour)**


	78. pub(lic) encounters

Horizont Alley was unnervingly dark at night. Daphne pulled her black cloak tighter around her as she walked briskly through the narrow cobblestone streets, trying to blend into the shadows and avoid unwanted attention.

She could hear faint laughter from up ahead, and as she rounded the corner, she saw a group of men singing drunkenly and stamping their feet in no particular rhythm. Daphne wrinkled her nose. Her family generally frowned upon alcohol, except for formal occasions like balls and sophisticated dinner parties.

(Which makes her a fucking _hypocrite._ )

She keeps her head down, trying to give the men a wide berth. But they are, incidentally, standing in front of her destination.

The Fountain of Fair Fortune. The most popular pub in Horizont Alley, and the place where Daphne will officially (unofficially, if no one recognizes her) desecrate her family's name.

She, unfortunately, has to go through the inebriated men if she wants to get into the pub, so she ground her teeth and pushed her way through the group. One of the blokes grabbed her ass, so she gave them a right kick in the shin. He backed away, howling and cursing her. Under her hood, Daphne smirked. That would definitely leave a nasty bruise that he would not remember.

The lights were dim as she entered the pub. There was low music going on in the background, and it was an open space, the bar the only seating area.

Daphne wound her way through the tables. She spotted no familiar faces, which was a relief, because then no one could report to her family.

(Yes, she was here without her family's permission. Her family thought she was running errands.)

(Yes, she did not care what they thought. She was here of her own accord. She wanted a drink, and damn right she was going to get one.)

But she did not see _Harry fucking Potter_ leaning on one of the bar stools, grinning one of those insufferable grins that she loathed so much.

"Daphne Greengrass," he said, sitting up as she approached. "Fancy seeing you here."

"Fancy seeing you here too, oh _savior,_ " she replied scathingly.

Much to her satisfaction, that grin was wiped right off of his face. "What's got your knickers in a twist, Greengrass?"

"Nothing," she said stiffly, deliberately ignoring the knickers comment. She was not going to admit her problems out loud, especially to Wizarding world's hero.

"Oh." He sipped his drink. "Well, y'know, I just assumed, seeing as you stormed in here all in a huff…"

"Nothing wrong, all right?" Daphne snapped. "So stop interrogating me."

She regretted the words as soon as they came out of her mouth. A light seems to go off in Potter's head and he leaned forward.

"Is your family being interrogated by the Ministry?"

There's no point in beating around the bush.

"They seem to think that my parents were followers of You-Know—I mean Voldemort," she confessed in a low voice.

"Well, were they?" Potter's eyes were sparkling.

She swatted him. "Like hell I'd tell you!"

"Easy, Greengrass," the bloody tosser responded, a wicked smirk on his face. "We wouldn't want people getting the wrong idea, would we?"

Daphne sputtered, outraged. "How—how dare you!" She slammed her glass on the counter. "I think I'm done here," she said coldly to the bartender, who blanched but took her glass.

"Wait—Greengrass—" His shouting followed her as she exited the pub.

"Greengrass!" She was storming up the street, not bothering to pull up her hood, when he caught up to her.

"Greengrass—I'm sorry about what I said back there," he apologized in between pants. "I was just trying to lighten the mood. I'm sorry about your family and all."

She paused, looked into his hopeful eyes, and believed his apology.

"I forgive you."

* * *

 **WC: 634**

 **Written for:**

 **Assignment 12, Gardening Task 5 -** **Setting: Fountain of Fair Fortune (pub in Horizont Alley)**

 **Other challenges to be added later.**


	79. this journey ends with you

_Rated T - 618 words_

* * *

Ginny finds Gabrielle tending to the wounded in the hospital wing. Her blonde hair is pulled back in a ponytail, and she's dressed in less-than-fancy clothes for once. She has a wet sponge in her hand and gently cleaning a boy's face when Ginny arrives, in pursuit of some medical aid herself.

Madam Pomfrey is the one who greets her at the door, looking alert yet frazzled. No doubt she's been cooped in the hospital since the battle began over six hours ago.

"Oh good, Miss Weasley, you're here," says the matron, relief appearing on her weary face. "You can supervise Miss Delacour while I go fetch something from the greenhouses, if they are still intact."

"But—" Ginny starts, but Madam Pomfrey waves her off as she hurries past her. Frowning with displeasure, Ginny makes her way over to Gabrielle.

It's not like she doesn't like the girl, but she still holds a slight grudge against her for fancying her ex-boyfriend.

She approaches Gabrielle, her mouth opening to say _hello,_ but Gabrielle, without turning around, beats her to it. " _Bonjour,_ Ginny. How is your family?"

Ginny halts, more from surprise at her perfect English accent more than the shock of knowing who she is without turning around.

"You learned—?"

"When one is around your— _ahem_ — _chatty_ family, you learn a lot," Gabrielle replies, turning to Ginny with a small smile and sparkling eyes. Ginny is taken aback by how _blue_ they are—innocent, gilded with a silvery sheen. It's entrancing, almost.

"Ginny?" Gabrielle asks, and Ginny shakes herself out of her stupor.

"Chatty? That's an understatement," she tries to smoothly recover. It works, and Gabrielle's tinkling laugh fills the air, the hospital wing.

And Ginny smiles and gets lost in Gabrielle Delacour's eyes and laugh.

* * *

Gabrielle gives her a bracelet for Christmas. It's not just any bracelet, though, it has Ginny's name engraved into it, along with charms that represent her favorite things, like a Quaffle and a stallion.

Ginny's heart beats faster and she has the overwhelming urge to _kiss_ Gabrielle, to hug her and never let go.

She wants Gabrielle.

* * *

"She gives me butterflies." Ginny looks at her lap, fingering the bracelet that Gabrielle had given her. "I don't understand. I thought I liked blokes."

Hermione shrugs. "Not every girl just likes boys. I don't." When Ginny looks at her with surprise, she elaborates, "I'm bisexual. By definition, I'm attracted to both genders."

"But I thought—you and Ron—"

"Oh, Ronald?" She chuckles. "I thought we had something, but turns out he has a thing for Harry. And I like someone else."

"Who?"

"That's not an issue." Hermione waves her away in a similar fashion as Madam Pomfrey. "I say just go for it."

Ginny stares at her. "I'm sorry?"

"Just tell her. You won't know if she reciprocates your feelings if you just sit here and wallow in them. Tell her. I'm sure she likes you back."

Ginny splutters. "I—what if she rejects me? What she—"

"Some things are worth pursuit regardless of the cost," Hermione says gently. "I'll support you, but I can't tell her for you."

Ginny sighs. "Fine," she says. "But if I go through with this, you tell me who you like. Deal?"

"Deal."

* * *

(Hermione isn't surprised when she opens the door to Ginny's room and finds them snogging feverishly on her bed, Ginny on top and topless, and Gabrielle in her underwear, clothes and shoes strewn everywhere.)

(Ginny is in heaven. Or she's dreaming. Either one. It doesn't matter. She's in pure bliss either way. Gabrielle's lips are devouring her own, her soft hands are in her hair, and her perfect legs are wrapped around her torso.)

(It's perfect.)

* * *

 **Writing Club: Disney - Kristoff: Write about a Weasley; Book Club - Aiko - (word) sparkle, (word) dream, (dialogue )"Some things are worth pursuit regardless of the cost."; Showtime -** **Charlie's Soliloquy -** **(object) shoes; AAA -** **Know it All — Write about Hermione Granger; EE - Ginny/Pansy - Write a post-war story**

 **Eastern Funfair: Penny Slots - 6/27/41**

 **Southern Funfair: Henna Tattoo Booth - (setting) hospital; (trait) gentle; (word) bliss**

 **Northern Funfair: Kissing Booth - GinnyGabrielle**

 **Seasonal Challenges - Days, Gay Pride Day; Birthstones, Topaz - "He/she gives me butterflies."; Flowers, Peony - (sexuality) Bisexual**


	80. different strings (different soulmates)

Lily knew that this wasn't going to be a long-term relationship. In fact, she and James had made a pact. They were only fake dating in order to make the people they were interested in jealous. For Lily, it was Fabian. For James, it was Sirius.

But Lily has always seen the red strings. A string was attached to every finger, and every single one of those had led to James. But his, apparently, don't reciprocate. His were connected to Sirius's.

And Lily, even though she wasn't interested romantically in him, it was a little discontenting. James was a kind, sweet, funny young man, and it was impossible not to notice him. Girls flocked to him by the numbers, despite knowing he was bisexual, hoping to be the one to attract his attention. But it was obvious that he was clearly smitten with Sirius, and you would have to be a liar if you said he wasn't. The attraction between sent sparks and embers flying.

And it left Lily feeling that she had missed out on her chance. He had harbored feelings for her in his youth, but that had all changed when he had learned his true sexuality.

But the crimson strings said that she was his soulmate, but his strings said he was soulmates with Sirius. That was confusing. Markedly confusing, at first.

But when she found Sirius and James going at it in a broom closet, hands all over each other and naked, she was relieved.

Very relieved.

* * *

 _Writing Club - Creature Feature: (word) embers, (AU) soulmate; Book Club - **Julian:** (trope) fake dating, (colour) crimson, (word) liar; CYB: (AU) Soulmate_

 _Northern Funfair - Kissing Booth (E) - JamesSirius_

 _Southern Funfair - Fortune Teller - Card 1 The Lovers, reversed = plot - (Name **\- Lily** ) has always seen the red strings. If only he can ignore the fact that his lover's leads to (Name2 - **Sirius** ). **(plot given by Amber)**_

 _Eastern Funfair - Slot Machine - 9/39/56_

 _300 words_


	81. you're shaking my life up

She watches her from the shadows, poison spilling out of her lips and her bleak eyes cutting and haughty. She watches her from afar, watching as she effortlessly topples pedestals with virulent poise. She carries herself high, bathing herself in a light of grandeur and glorious splendor.

Astoria Greengrass watches as her soulmate takes Hogwarts by storm.

* * *

Astoria is pretty, Pansy notes, but she's all too quiet. If only if she were more like her sister, proud and elegant, she would be something. She has power. She has grace. If only if she would put it to good use, she could garner fear.

And it helps that she's really pretty. Pansy can't take her eyes off of her.

* * *

They have their first conversation after Dumbledore is killed. Hogwarts is no longer the so-called "paradise" it used to be, but rather, a dark and gloomy pity party.

Astoria is sitting alone on the edge of the Astronomy where the oh-so great headmaster had met his demise, when she hears footsteps. She whirls around, tensing and drawing her wand, but relaxes as the trapdoor swings open to reveal Pansy, her face terse and cursing under her breath.

The wind carries her quiet greeting to her. "Hello."

Pansy looks up, clearly startled that someone else would be here, and mutters a quick hello in response. Her heels click as she strides to Astoria's side, and her skirt billows and pools around her as she sits.

"Lovely day, isn't it?" Pansy tries.

It is not a lovely day. It's almost as if Mother Nature had sensed the darkness looming over the world, and had decided to accommodate the mood. Silvery-gray storm clouds are gathered above the horizon and shielding all remnants of sunlight.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out the symbolism.

"Yeah," Astoria says, almost inaudible. "Lovely day."

Pansy looks at Astoria, her chestnut hair blowing in the breeze, her pale green eyes soft but guarded.

Astoria Greengrass is an enigma.

* * *

Their next conversation occurs during the Carrows' reign. Pansy is seated by the fireplace and Astoria sidles up to her.

"Have you...seen the red strings?" Astoria keeps her tone light and offhand. If it's one thing she's learnt from her sister, it's how to breach a subject with calm, cool manner and withdraw an answer without any protest.

Pansy nods, her eyes focused on the tedious task of painting her nails a rich mahogany. "Yes, why?"

"Well, it's said that everyone has those red strings," Astoria steps carefully into the topic. "And those red strings are rumored to lead to your soulmate."

"Uh-huh."

Astoria raises a delicate eyebrow. "'Uh-huh'?"

"I know what you're trying to do," Pansy clarifies, casting a drying spell on her nails and siphoning off the excess polish. "Your red string leads to me, correct?"

Her piercing eyes bore into Astoria, and her breath hitches.

"How do you—"

"Because mine leads to you." Pansy's eyes are burning, the dying firelight casting an orange glow on her smoothly sculpted face.

Astoria swallows. "It does?"

"Since the day I met you." Pansy takes one step forward so that her lips are level to Astoria's and her breasts collide with hers. Astoria is younger than Daphne, but what she loses for shyness, she makes up with height.

Astoria's eyes fixate on Pansy's lips, pink and plump like a succulent fruit. They have an invitation written all over them, but apparently neither of them want to make the first move.

Until Astoria decides she can't take it anymore. The tingly sensations, the hunger, the desire, it all vanishes when Astoria practically throws herself onto and into Pansy, their lips meeting and instant bliss flooding through.

The kiss is hot and heady and intoxicating. It's not long before they're stumbling up the stairs, their fingers gravitating towards buttons.

The fifth-year girls' dorm is thankfully empty, so as soon as they enter the room, Astoria kicks the door shut with her foot. She's immediately slammed against it, and Pansy takes control, making quick work of Astoria's blouse and jeans. Astoria does the same to Pansy, unbuttoning her lavender dress urgently.

It's then Pansy breaks away to murmur sultrily, "I'm not wearing any panties," and Astoria enters a whole new world of heat and craving.

It's absolutely incredible.

* * *

 _714 words_

 _Northern Funfair: Kissing Booth (M) - PansyAstoria_

 _Southern Funfair: Henna Tattoo Booth - Left Arm (word: glorious), Feather (word: paradise), Monochrome (colour: silver)_

 _Eastern Funfair: Hall of Mirrors - Hall One: Soulmate!AU_

 _Seasonal Challenges - Days, World Snake Day:_ _Write about your favourite Slytherin character.; Colors - Mahogany; Summer: (word) heat_

 _Writing Club: Char App: Astoria Greengrass; Book Club - Governor Dragna_


	82. life is ours (we'll live it our way)

"Scorpius, what's it like to not know about the war?" Charlie rests his head on Scorpius's shoulder, gazing up at the black sky, a wistful expression painted on his scarred face.

"...Lucky," Scorpius answers after a few moments. "I feel lucky. Blessed, even."

"Lucky," Charlie echoes softly. "I don't think I can remember those days. I was born a couple years into the first war, and then by the time it was over, I was shipped off to Hogwarts—I don't remember much, but I remember Mum and Dad were on edge and Mum would always fuss over me excessively."

Scorpius is quiet until Charlie is finished, then he inputs, "I'm glad I didn't grow up in those times, but the aftermath is almost as bad, especially the rumors about me being Voldemort's child. That was crushing, especially after Mum died—I remember Dad was a mixture of grief, mania, and anger. Those were hard times too."

Sympathy blossoms in Charlie's heart—yes, he had lived during both wars, but he had never been an active participant, always in Romania, and had to deal with minimal backlash. He was no hero.

But Scorpius, on the other hand, had not lived during either war, but still had to survive with the ghosts of his father's past. It was unfair, really, that someone so young and so innocent had so much burden, even though the war was long over.

"I want—" His voice cracks. "I want—to show you something."

He rolls up a leg of his pants and there, emblazoned on rare patch of unblemished skin, is a tattoo of a scorpion.

"Charlie, I—" Scorpius is speechless. To convey the sudden flood of emotion surging through his body, he presses a chaste kiss on Charlie's lips.

"Thank you," he says breathlessly. "I love you so much."

Charlie loops an arm and pulls him into his side. "You're my scorpion, Scorpius. Why wouldn't I get a tattoo of my boyfriend's namesake?"

In response, Scorpius presses another kiss to his cheek and they sit together on the steps of their cottage, whiling away the night in the comfort of each other's presence.

* * *

 _355 words_

 **Written for:**

 **Northern Funfair, Kissing Booth (C): ScorpiusCharlie**

 **Eastern Funfair, Ferris Wheel: (setting) cottage**

 **Writing Club: Amber's Attic -** **Last Sad Song: Write about someone learning to rise above their sadness** **; Book Club - Dante; EE -** **Lily Luna Potter: Write about growing up in the spotlight.**


	83. we're born for each other

"Here." Hermione sets down a bowl, which is brimming with hot vegetable broth. "Eat."

Salazar stirs, jarred from his thoughts. "I'm not hungry," he says, scowling.

"You need to eat more, Salazar. You look like a ghost," Hermione says sternly. "You've been running yourself ragged. You need sustenance."

Salazar's scowl deepens and he replies cynically, "I'm. Not. Hungry."

Their gazes clash, Hermione's soft brown with Salazar's hard green, unwavering. Their wills grapple, both alike in obstinacy yet with different intents.

"Do I need to spoon-feed you?" Hermione resorts to a threat, a threat she knows will work.

Sure enough, it does. "Fine," Salazar growls and begins to spoon some of the broth into his mouth. Soon, sounds of gnawing and crunching fill the room and Hermione sits down, satisfied with her accomplishment. No one had gotten him to eat more than a couple dry biscuits before today.

Wait till Rowena heard.

* * *

 _Past lives are fickle things._

 _On September 19, 1979, she was reincarnated._

 _But she would never know her past._

 _Fate was cruel._

* * *

In the heat of battle, he almost misses the cry leave her lips, and then next thing he knows, blood is gushing out of her body like a tidal wave, and the girl she had been shielding releases a terrified shrill and flees.

With a roar unbeknownst to mankind, he lunges at her attacker with ferocity, slashing his sword in a deadly arc. Her assailant falls, but Salazar does not wait, stabbing his weapon into his chest and leaving him there, rushing to her side.

Kneeling in a pool of her blood, he touches her skin. It's still warm, and he finds a pulse skittering in her wrist. She's alive, but dying.

He knows she doesn't have much time left. He can't waste whatever precious time he has remaining with her. Sadness or not, her timer is winding down.

He tenderly brushes a lock of brown hair out of her eyes. Her warm, chocolatey eyes. "How did you get so brave?"

Her arms reach out, a feeble movement, and her slender fingers wrap around his head. She tries to move her head, and Salazar, realizing what she is attempting to do, meets her halfway and presses a chaste kiss on her lips.

Their foreheads rest against each others.

" _I learned it from you."_

* * *

" _We shall meet again, my love."_

* * *

Hermione's head is buried in a riveting Transfiguration book, so she doesn't notice the other boy heading towards her in the other direction, also engrossed in a book. They collide and Hermione's book falls to the floor.

"Hey, watch where you're—" Hermione's words stick in her throat as she gets a good look at the boy, his eyes chips of hard emerald, and his jaw all sharp edges.

Something seems familiar about this boy, but she can't place her finger on it. Maybe she'd encountered him somewhere else? Or seen him in the halls?

 _No._ That isn't it. There's something else trying to wedge its way to the forefront of her brain.

Hermione smiles hesitantly. "I'm sorry," she offers.

The boy's eyes soften. "It's not a problem," he mumbles. "Here, let me get you your book."

"No it's okay—" She reaches down at the same time and their heads bump.

"Ow!" they exclaim simultaneously, with Hermione adding, "Sorry!"

"We can't do anything without _butting heads,_ can we?" the boy jokes.

Hermione gapes and then bursts into laughter. The boy cracks a broad grin, bolstered by her amusement.

"Well, I'll see you around," she says between giggles.

"Wait!" The boy seizes her arm as she turns to leave. "What's your name?"

"I'm Hermione. You?"

The boy studies her, a calculating look in his eyes. Finally, another brilliant grin graces his lips.

"I'm Salazar."

* * *

 _624 words_

 _Writing Club: Disney - Grumpy; Shannon's Showcase - 12. "How did you get so brave?" / "I learned it from you."; Book Club - Slightly; Sophie's Shelf - Vault 34; EE - (setting) Hogwarts, Lo's Lowdown - Grantaire; Bex's Biscuit Barrel - Digestive_

 _Northern Funfair: Kissing Booth (C) - HermioneSalazar_

 _Eastern Funfair: Ferris Wheel - (genre) angst_


	84. we didn't do this (did we?)

She doesn't know how it happens, but she does know why.

It's a bad day. Scratch that, a bad _year._

She would be lying if she says she's fine, if she says Cedric's death didn't pain her every waking moment.

He plagues her dreams and her nightmares. His ghost is always _there,_ in the form of a lingering presence in her mind. She raves about him, for him, _to him._

She wonders if she could be admitted to St. Mungo's as certifiably insane.

So, she turns to the only viable option: alcohol.

* * *

When Marietta finds the stash of firewhiskey and butterbeer and all sorts of drinks collecting under her bed, she doesn't confront her right away. She thinks it's just a passing phase.

She's wrong.

Cho's drinking only gets worse. She consumes four bottles of alcohol a day, seven if it's the weekend. Most of the time, she's inebriated, and in some cases, knocked unconscious. Marietta is the only one preventing her from doing anything stupid.

Until she doesn't.

Marietta's at the library when it happens, and when she comes, it's too late.

* * *

Seamus is very, very drunk.

Ever since his parents had divorced, he had been going through some rough times. His roommates and housemates were quite sympathetic, but he hated sympathy. It's a constant reminder of how he drove his parents apart.

He already has alcohol under his bed, so he pops open a bottle of firewhiskey and gulps it down. Same with the next bottle. And the next.

And then he's totally, utterly wasted.

And good things never happen when he is.

In his hazy cloud of intoxication, he wanders out of the common room and bumps into someone else. He can't put the name to the face, but he likes her anyway.

And then, the mistake happens.

* * *

 _Ouch,_ is the first thought that comes to Cho's mind as she opens her eyes. Her head is pounding.

 _How much did I drink last ni—ack!_ It's then she notices the boy lying next to her. A very _naked_ boy.

Cho screams and fumbles for the blankets, pulling them over her _bare_ chest. The boy stirs, mumbling something inaudibly.

Then his eyes shoot open and his face fully emerges, tinged pink.

 _Holy shit—that's Seamus Finnegan!_

* * *

" _Let's make out," Cho giggles, running her hand clumsily through his hair._

 _Seamus's face lights up. "Okay!" he slurs, and then they're all over each other, kissing frantically, clothes being removed—_

* * *

—Shit.

* * *

 **408 words**

 **Northern Funfair: Kissing Booth (M) - ChoSeamus**

 ** _More challenges to be added._**


	85. the sky is cloudy

_As you will be able to tell, I half-assed this drabble...this is supposed an assassin!au._

* * *

At the orphanage, life is...monotonous. Of course, with his siblings and his friends there, there's the occasional merriment.

But Ron is absolutely, indisputably bored of the orphan life. He envies those who are allowed into the outside world, instead of being stuck with the nasally storyteller who comes everyday.

All of his siblings are allowed to explore the outside world with the exception of his younger sister, Ginny. He's jealous of all of them, because he's not a whole lot younger than the twins and he's pretty sure he can handle the world better than them. But they rub it in his face that they're older and therefore, have more freedom than him.

That's all blown out the window the moment he steps outside for the first time, having reached seventeen, and spots perhaps the prettiest girl he's ever seen.

(Of course, anything would seem pretty after being stuck in that dreary orphanage for over half of his life.)

She has brown hair pulled back into a messy bun and stylish glasses perched on her nose. Her head is immersed in a book the width of Ron's fist.

"Perce," he whispers to his brother, "do you know who she is?" He nods to the girl.

Percy shrugs, looking annoyed. "I don't know. It's not like I make it my business to know everyone. Besides, if I did know who she is, why would I tell you? You've been missing poetry classes."

"I've heard a lot of poetry now, and I've decided I don't like it," Ron snaps, defending himself. "And besides, I wasn't asking that."

Percy doesn't answer.

Looks like he'll have to do some investigating of his own.

* * *

Ron is exploring the streets of London, not too far from the orphanage, when he's suddenly pushed sideways. He tumbles head over heels into the alley, trying to seek something to slow his descent, but finds no purchase. His hands scrabble uselessly on the cobblestones.

A pair of legs abruptly cuts Ron off. He runs straight into the person's legs, but said person does not fall. He scrambles to his feet and dusts himself off.

It's then he sees the stranger's face. Bitter coffee eyes set in smooth, porcelain skin, but that's all he can see. The rest of him or her is hooded and blending into the shadows.

"Come with me." The voice is female and compelling, so he follows her.

* * *

"Where are we going?"

"You'll find out."

"When?"

"Soon."

"Where?"

"If you ask another question, I will personally shove a knife up your ass."

Ron reels back, horrified, but doesn't say a word after that.

* * *

"We're here."

Ron looks up at the dilapidated building and bites his lip anxiously. He's getting a uneasy feeling from all of this.

"Come with me."

The woman strides through the grass and up the steps, rapping on the door. An eyehole opens, and Ron makes out a glassy blue eyeball before a gruff voice says, "Come in."

Ron glances around as he walks behind the girl. He doesn't like the looks of this place. The dark, gloomy atmosphere unsettles him.

The girl pushes the door open. The room beyond falls silent and curious faces peer at Ron from around a circular table.

A man with a bald head and blood-red eyes stands up, his blue eyes twinkling behind his glasses.

"We've been waiting for you."

The girl pulls down her hood, revealing a smiling face.

Ron's jaw drops.

It's the pretty girl he'd been admiring earlier.

* * *

"Where do you go for so long?" Percy looks questioningly at his younger brother, awkwardly shuffling about in his pyjamas and yawning.

"Places," Ron answers vaguely.

" _Where?"_ Percy presses.

Ron shrugs and walks away.

* * *

" _Breaking news! A group of Death Eaters have been spotted on the edge of the Cokeworth, burning down houses and killing the families inside…"_

* * *

"That was a successful mission," Hermione remarks. "Cheers to that."

Ron, who is too busy staring at Hermione, is nudged by Harry. "Raise your glass, mate. Stop ogling Hermione."

Heat rises to his cheeks, but he smiles anyway and lifts his flute of champagne.

* * *

"I know you're very busy," Ron begins, his palms clammy. He can't believe he's doing this, but it's been months and he hasn't made a move. Hermione is a brilliant, gorgeous girl, and it's only a matter of time before she's snatched up.

Hermione looks up from her desk. "I am. And you are…?"

"I came… I came here to ask you something." He fidgets with his shirt. Better now, garbled and stuttering, than at an inconvenient time.

"I was wondering...if you wanted to go out. With me."

When he sees her shocked face, he immediately assumes her answer and dissolves into fumbling explanations and apologies. She stops him by getting up and pressing a finger to his lips.

"I'll go out you."

He's felt savage pleasure before, from killing the unworthy and seeing their blood stained on his hands. He hasn't felt this kind of pleasure for a while, the balmy, healing kind.

Maybe there's something new waiting for him on the other horizon, perhaps a chance at love.

* * *

 _855 words_

 _World Cup - France vs_ _ **Argentina**_ \- _AU: Assassin_

 ** _Writing Club_**

 _Char App - 8. (group) Trio (bonus)_

 _Disney - S2. Someday My Prince Will Come - Write about someone dreaming of a better future._

 _Book Club - Tiger Lily - (au) orphan, (word) defend, (dialogue) "I've heard a lot of poetry now, and I've decided I don't like it."_

 _Showtime - 26. Take a Break - "I know you're very busy."_

 _Amber's Attic - Het 1 - RonHermione_

 _CYB: S1, AU1, O4_

 _Lyric Alley - 31. I've been livin' without a family since I was a child_

 _AAA - The Maze — Write about someone who is trapped somewhere._

 _Sophie Shelf - Vault 68 - (restriction) Only one female character_

 _EE - Portugal 2 - (trait) lonely_

 _LL - Q1 - Revolutions spring not from accident, but from necessity._


	86. A New Life

Tonks skids into the maternity ward, frantic. "Did I miss it? Am I too late? I'm sorry, I was running errands for Kingsley and I promised her—"

The frail secretary smiles warmly. "Relax, sweetheart," she says, placing a hand on Tonks's arm. "Just tell me the last name and I'll direct you to the room."

"Patil," Tonks breathes, and then adds unnecessarily, "Padma Patil."

"Room 611, if I recall correctly. Hurry along now, dear."

Tonks needs no further encouragement and pushes her way through the double doors. She almost collides with a pair of doctors, who step aside at the last moment.

"Sorry!" she calls over her shoulder, but there's no time to say anything else.

She runs down the hallway, watching the room numbers whiz by. _605...607...609...611!_

Tonks practically shoves the door open in her haste and stops immediately upon seeing Padma. A sheen of sweat coats her forehead and she's breathing heavily, her eyes squeezed shut.

"Are you the wife?" When Tonks nods, the nurse guides her to Padma's side. Light is streaming through the window, illuminating Padma's exhausted face. "Here, she's currently in labor. The contractions are about sixty seconds apart."

"All right." Tonks squares her shoulders. "I'm ready."

* * *

"...Congratulations, you have a healthy baby boy," the nurse tells them, smiling. "If I may ask, have you picked out a name?"

Padma and Tonks exchange glances. They have discussed this in thorough detail before, so they've already chosen a name.

"Teddy," Tonks says, since Padma is too tired to speak. "We're naming him Teddy."

"Teddy," repeats the nurse, a little smile forming on her face. "You know, my nephew's name is Teddy and coincidentally, it's his birthday today."

Tonks raises an eyebrow. "Really? How lovely! Tell him happy birthday from us."

"I will."

Padma squeaks suddenly. Tonks turns abruptly, scanning her wife. "Are you okay?"

"I swear—" Padma breaks off, a smile growing on her features. "Love, I think Teddy's a Metamorphagus. His hair just turned red."

" _What?"_ Tonks shouts, hurrying to her wife's side. "It _is_ red! That's amazing!"

"I know!"

The nurse excuses herself and leaves the room, giving them some privacy to squeal over this new discovery.

* * *

"I love you," Tonks murmurs a little while. "You're so strong and brave and beautiful."

Padma giggles. "What brought this own?"

"This." Tonks gestures to the baby in her arms. "You're amazing. That's the truth."

"I know." Padma inches herself upward to Tonks's level and they lean in, kissing briefly before moving apart and marveling at their baby.

This is the best thing that has ever happened to them.

* * *

 _435 words_

* * *

 **Writing Club**

 **Showtime** \- 22. Dear Theodosia - (plot point) becoming a parent

 **Book Club - Tootles:** (word) frail, (event) birthday, (plot point) running errands

 **Angel's Arcade - Sora:** (trait) brave, (color) red, (word set) light, promise, truth

 **Lyric Alley -** 33\. As long as I'm alive, swear to God you'll never feel so helpless.

 **EE -** Greece 1 - Write about something pure.

 **Other**

Northern Funfair - Kissing Booth (M) - TonksPadma

Southern Funfair - Hedge Maze - (plot point) a new baby

Eastern Funfair - The Circus - Fire-Breathing - [Dialogue] "I love you.", [Emotion] Happy

Hamilton Mania - 20. Emotion: Happiness


	87. jealousy becomes you (not really)

_"Sometimes the right person for you was there all along. You just didn't see it because the wrong one was blocking your sight." -Julia Barretto (I believe)_

* * *

" _Did you hear?"_

" _What?"_

" _Theo asked out Daphne!"_

" _What did she say?"_

" _Yes, you dimwit! She said yes!"_

* * *

He not jealous. He's not upset whatsoever. Theo and Daphne fancy each other and he is happy for them.

Daphne and him are just friends and he's content with that.

Totally not jealous.

* * *

She keeps him up at night.

Or at least, thoughts of her.

Blaise tosses and turns, unable to sleep with _her_ on his mind. Her eyes, twin frosty blue moons, her sleek hair, tossed over her shoulder. The way she walks, confident and poised, graceful and powerful. Her blood red lips curved into a dangerous smile.

Blaise sits up abruptly, his mind coming to a halt. His heart is thudding in his chest.

 _Holy shit, I think I fancy her..._

* * *

"Pansy, I...need to talk you."

"...Sure?" She sets her book down and raises an eyebrow. "What about?"

"Let's go somewhere private."

* * *

"I just don't know how to get her off of my mind," Blaise confesses. "She's always there, haunting my thoughts and my dreams and my nightmares."

"Hm." Pansy's lips quirk into a wry smile. "What about Theo?"

"Theo, I just...gah." Blaise throws his hands into the air. "I love him, but whenever I see him with her, it makes feel like…" he trails off.

"Like you want to strangle him or something."

"I don't have the heart for murder." Blaise drops his arms, defeated. "But exactly."

"Sounds like to me you're jealous," Pansy quips.

Blaise glares at her. "Astute observation. But what do I do?"

"Easy. You tell her how you feel."

* * *

He'd initially had qualms about this. It is risky, if she doesn't feel the same. He knows she can make him the laughingstock of the school if he doesn't play his cards right.

He's hesitant. But he knows he can do it. She's his future beloved.

He approaches Daphne, who is arm in arm with Theo. "Hey, Daph, I need to talk to you."

* * *

Daphne Greengrass has a secret.

She doesn't fancy Theodore Nott. Not anymore. Yes, he's a good boyfriend and all, but he's not really suited to her tastes.

She fancies someone else. A certain someone with dark skin and a charming smile. He's the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome.

Blaise Zabini.

So when Blaise pulls her aside, she thinks she knows what's coming.

And she's right.

* * *

" _Did you hear about Theo and Daphne?"_

" _Yeah, I heard they split."_

" _I heard that Daphne dumped him because she fancies Blaise Zabini."_

" _That's true. They're together now."_

* * *

 _424 words_

* * *

 **Disney -** C2. The Evil Queen - Write about a bad step parent. Alt, write about jealousy.

 **Book Club -** Pine Sap: (trait) insomniac, (word) hesitant, (dialogue) "I don't have the heart for murder."

 **Showtime** \- 28. The Room Where It Happens - (emotion) Jealousy

 **Amber's Attic** \- Het 7 - BlaiseDaphne

 **CYB:** C1. Theo Nott, O3. Book

 **Angel Arcade -** Kairi: (plot point) waiting for someone, (trait) caring, (trope) friends to lovers

 **World Cup - _Sweden_** vs England - Quote: "Sometimes the right person for you was there all along. You just didn't see it because the wrong one was blocking your sight."

 **Northern Funfair -** Ice Cream Stall - Cinnamon (Blaise) and Double Chocolate Brownie (Daphne)

 **Eastern Funfair -** Slot Machine - 12/13/51


	88. lawfully yours

"Bad things may happen to them. You know that, don't you?"

Barty paced the length of the room, his fingers massaging his temple. "I know, I know, which is why I have to win this case!"

"You'll have to win against Regulus Black, the best lawyer in all of London," his mother pointed out. "While I support you, obviously, this man has won cases that seemed to be leaning to the other side. You're going to need a lot of evidence to triumph over him."

"I will find it," Barty promised, a steely glint in his eyes, "even if puts me on my deathbed."

(But the thing was, he had no idea what Regulus Black looked like. That man never went out into the public eye for reasons unknown to everyone but himself.)

* * *

He didn't what to expect when he entered the courtroom. His eyes swept over the room and locked on a man with long black hair and a young, almost _childish_ face. In Barty's book, that would've been put down as a weakness, but instead, his heart started to pound. He was handsome in a way that drew the room's attention to him.

This was the man who was the famed lawyer.

Oh man, this would be one hell of a case.

* * *

"...and the plaintiffs are found guilty," the judge announced, looking surprised herself along with the rest of the courtroom. "This case is concluded. Jury dismissed."

Everyone burst into chatter at once and Regulus sidled over to Barty. "Good job," he said cordially, sticking out his hand. "You put up a hell of a fight."

A corner of his mouth was twitching. His hand was steady. But his leg was shaking slightly. Barty took his hand and simultaneously looked down at his leg. Regulus caught his stare and his mouth curved into a wry smile.

"It's a condition I have," his rival informed him. "It only acts up when I need to ask someone out."

Barty's hand abruptly withdrew and he glanced at the leg, then at Regulus's face.

"Go out with me?"

Barty found his voice again. "Why the sudden request? Do you ask all of your opposing lawyers out?"

"No, I don't. I'm rather fascinated with you," Regulus confessed. "What do you say? I promise I'll make it your worthwhile if you agree."

Barty had known what his answer was from the start. "I'd love to."

* * *

 _401 words_

* * *

 **Disney** \- S4. Heigh Ho - Write about someone's day at work.

 **Book Club** \- Reginald Smee: (trope) love at first sight, (character) Regulus Black, (dialogue) "Bad things may happen to them. You know that, don't you?"

 **Showtime** \- 23. Non-Stop - (AU) lawyer

 **Amber's Attic** -Slash 2 - RegulusBartyJr

 **CYB** \- W1. Young

 **Lyric Alley** \- 4. Then you walked in and my heart went "Boom!"

 **Lo's Lowdown** \- C12. Marius: write about love at first sight

 **Southern Funfair** \- Hedge Maze - (trait) twitchy

 **Hamilton Mania** \- Act Two - 5. Being blackmailed - (character) Barty Crouch Jr.


	89. the clouds have cleared (since you came)

Luna has two boys, Lorcan and Lysander, who she will go to the ends of the world for. She loves them more than she loves herself.

But her and her fiance are not happy. Their household is ripped apart by arguments, more so about her questionable beliefs. She stands staunchly by those, while her fiance refuses to think the same.

So after the latest spat, she retires to her room while her fiance storms out to do whatever he does after they spar. She suspects another woman.

She looks at the framed picture on her bedside table. All of them are together: her, her family, all looking content and smiling brightly. Now Luna knows that one of the smiles is a facade.

She sinks into pensive thought. _Is it really worth staying with him if it tears apart our family?_

 _No. It isn't._

Luna opens her drawer, grabs a bar of chocolate, and peels away the wrapper. She sniffs it and takes a bite.

It offers her instant relief.

* * *

He left.

She's alone with her two boys now and the pieces of their shattered relationship. She has to put her life back together.

She has to heal.

* * *

Cho comes into her life like a supernova.

She hasn't seen Cho since her school days, when they were in the same sorority together. Cho was the flirty one, the one who went out with all of the boys. She and Luna were no really friends, more like acquaintances.

But she's still quite pretty and Luna will be darned if she denies her heart beating faster when she see Cho for the first time in years.

Cho invites her out for a friendly lunch, sympathizes with her,, as she and her husband had divorced a couple months ago, around the time Luna's fiance left.

Luna likes her. More than she cares to admit. But is she ready for a new relationship so soon?

With Cho, she is.

* * *

 _324 words_

* * *

 **Shannon's Showcase** \- 6. (AU) Single Parent

 **Book Club** \- Moon Eye: (word) pensive, (emotion) sympathy, (character) Luna Lovegood

 **Showtime** \- 10. Helpless - (plot point) love at first sight

 **Amber's Attic** \- Femslash 1 - ChoLuna (5 point bonus)

 **Northern Funfair** \- Tunnel of Love - Pirate Ship 2 - Single Parent!AU

 **Southern Funfair** \- Hedge Maze

 **Prompt of the Day** \- Jul 9 - (food) chocolate

 **Hamilton Mania** \- Act Two - 4. Having an affair - (food) chocolate


	90. romance & coffee burns

The sunrise paints the sky a myriad of gorgeous hues. Reds and oranges fuse together to make a stunning portrait.

Remus wakes up with the sun's bright rays hitting his face. Opening his eyes, he shifts his body around to inform his boyfriend of this nuisance.

But he finds the other side of the bed empty.

His hands grope around, panicky, as if he thinks Sirius is hidden within the recesses of the bed, which is quite stupid. His hands meet air.

Trepidation rising in his stomach, he gets out of bed, yanking on a pair of (discarded, in the previous night's haste) boxers and a raspberry cardigan from his dresser.

(Yes, it's a hideous shade of pink, but he's short of garments, since it's Sirius's turn to wash them.)

He can hear the stove hissing in the kitchen when he enters the foyer and he breathes out a sigh.

Thank goodness.

(In times of terror, it's never wrong to be very cautious.)

"Good morning, Remmy," Sirius says, his voice cheery. "Enjoy your scrumptious breakfast of bacon and eggs, made by your favorite person in the universe."

"We're going to have to see about that," Remus responds, "and if you burnt the eggs, nothing on Earth can stop me from jumping you."

Sirius smirks. "I'm on board with that."

Remus suppresses a snort. Of course he says that. "Don't get your knickers in a twist," he says, his voice smooth.

Sirius smirks. Remus picks the coffee pot and tries to pour some coffee into his cup - just as Sirius decides to wrap his arms around his waist - and Remus, surprised, misses the cup and the piping hot coffee hits his hand instead.

" _Shit!"_ they curse at the same time. Sirius yanks his arms back as Remus jumps up, and thinking fast, runs and turns on the faucet and douses his hand in icy water.

Sirius is in panic mode. "What just—I'm so sorry—do I—"

"I need to go to St Mungo's," Remus says, terse. "They can treat my hand better there."

"You mean _we're_ going to St Mungo's," Sirius retorts, recovering from his bout of hysteria. "You're not going on your own."

Remus studies his worried face. "Fine. Come with me."

* * *

"Is the burn bad? Is he going to be okay?" He paces in the waiting room, chewing his tongue. Once, a woman berates him for disturbing the peace, and he shoots back, "This is a _waiting room._ Most of the time, nothing good happens, or did you not get the memo?"

The woman huffs, readjusts her—he can't see what it is, but it's a type of covering— and goes back to knitting.

Once or twice, he's seen nurses come out of the doors at the other end of the room. He jumps up, but instead of hearing what he's hoping for, he hears birth announcements. Everyone cheers and there are hugs and kisses and shouts of "Congrats."

Yes, he's happy for them. But he wants to hear news concerning _him._

And then, a nurse comes through those doors and comes right over to him. Sirius jumps up.

"Is the burn bad? Is he going to be okay?"

"He's fine," the nurse informs him, an amused expression on her face. "He needs to put on some medication from time to time, but for the most part, we've patched him up."

"That's good," Sirius sighs. "Can I see him?"

"Of course, right this way."

He stays behind her as they head for Remus's assigned room. It's not far.

"Right in here, sir." The nurse opens the door.

Sirius rushes inside. "Remmy, I'm so sorry, if I had never—"

Remus raises a hand to stop him. "It's okay," he says. "I'm not accusing you. Just...be more observant next time, okay?"

"Okay," he breathes. "Can I kiss you?"

Red paints his cheeks, but he says, shy, "Okay."

And Sirius kisses him and the room fades away around them. It's just them wrapped in pure ecstasy and in heaven.

* * *

 _666 words_

* * *

 **Yes, I know the St Mungo's floors for births and burns are different. But this placement made my life easier.**

 **The woman's covering is a shawl.**

* * *

 **Written for:**

 **Writing Club**

 **Disney -** C6. Bashful - Write about someone blushing.

 **Book Club -** Aunt Sticky Feet: (action) hugging someone, (object) shawl, (word) heaven

 **Showtime -** 45\. The World Was Wide Enough - (time) Dawn

 **Amber's Attic -** Slash 1. SiriusRemus

 **CYB -** C5 - Remus Lupin

 **Others**

 **Northern Funfair -** Tunnel of Love, Canoe 4 - (restriction) no letter L

 **Southern Funfair -** Hedge Maze - (color) raspberry

 **Eastern Funfair -** 9/11/45

 **Prompt of the Day:** St Mungo's


	91. a love lost

They were supposed to be on opposite sides. She was in the Order, while he had joined the Death Eaters. Technically, he was a spy, but only Dumbledore knew that. Everyone else thought he was a traitor to their cause.

Including _her._

* * *

She was a warrior in battle.

Her face would have that blazing look, that cold, raw anger, and her eyes would smolder with the heat of a thousand suns. Her golden hair would whip in the wind and her lips would be pursed with concentration.

And that hatred when she saw him...well, it ripped it him to shreds and made him almost regret his decision.

And when he saw someone inflict any pain whatsoever on her—not that it happened much, since she was such a skilled fighter—it would send a surge of red-hot fury through him, to make her tormentor's life hell.

But he was "loyal" to the Dark Lord now, and he couldn't betray his secret.

It was agonizing.

* * *

Sirius dragged a hairbrush through his hair, inspecting his appearance in the mirror. He looked groomed for the most part, but that was mostly because he was expected to maintain an impeccable appearance.

He did miss his dishevelled looks. He missed how he could look so effortlessly and carelessly attractive. He missed how he could flirt freely with girls without anyone criticizing him.

He missed his friends. He missed James, his brother and best mate. He missed Remus and his dry sense of humor and his chocolate addiction. He missed Peter and Lily and Dorcas and the Prewett twins and the Longbottoms and—and—

Sirius sighed. There was no use in dwelling over her. She hated him. There was nothing left of the broken fragments of their relationship. Whatever had happened between them, there was nothing but ash.

But it didn't stop her from lingering on his mind.

* * *

He saw her at the bar with her friends. He was there on a mission, assigned to him specifically by his superiors, and he saw her.

She was in a fancy yet scandalous cocktail dress. It hugged her curves almost sinfully and the front neckline dipped all the way to her navel, exposing a part of her bosom.

And she was with Benjy, who had a casual hand placed on the small of her back, but it was gradually sliding lower, the scrappy fellow that he was, and she wasn't even stopping him.

Sirius growled, his hand tightening around his shot glass. As he sat there, stewing in his jealousy, Benjy leaned over and whispered something into her ear. She giggled, slapped his arm, and then walked away, her hips swaying.

Sirius slammed his glass on the table. _Goddammit!_

But he had to bide his time. He couldn't reveal himself now.

But a cold hand gripped his gut as Benjy set down his glass and followed her, a dazed look on his face.

* * *

His facade was crumbling. He had just seen her, slumped in a nook, unconscious and a Death Eater looming over, his wand raised. And then Sirius had just _snapped._

Next thing he knew, the Death Eater was dead and he was trying to revive her, shaking her beaten body. Her blond hair was matted with blood. She needed proper medical attention.

He glanced around hastily. James was fighting a few meters away from him, and as he watched, his friend knocked out his opponent with a well-placed Stunning Spell. Sirius's mind cheered.

Carefully, he lifted her body and carried her over to his best mate. Tapping his shoulder, he hoped that James would not attack him upon sight.

James whirled around and immediately his hackles rose. He opened his mouth to call a spell, but Sirius wordlessly willed away his mask for just a brief second. James's eyes widened as he glimpsed his face and then, his face was heartbroken.

Sirius nodded at her body in his arms. James gazed at her, recognition crossing his face, before extending his arms.

 _Take good care of her,_ Sirius silently asked. James nodded, and his face still white, he took her from Sirius.

Sirius watched with his heart shattering as the two people he loved most walked away from him.

James Potter, the first family he'd ever had.

And Marlene McKinnon, the first and only love of his life.

* * *

 _715 words_

* * *

 **Prompt of the Day: (object) hairbrush**

 **Writing Club - Book Club - Tink: (restriction) no dialogue, (trait) loyal, (word) nook; Showtime - 30. Cabinet Battle #2 - (trait) Loyalty; CYB: AU3, P4, W2; Lyric Alley - 18. I'm dying inside, as you wine and dine; AAA - 9. Worldwide Sales Director of Pots and Pans — Write about someone who lies about what their job is.; LL - Q3 - Love has no middle term: it either destroys, or it saves. (5 bonus points)**


	92. smoke and mirrors

Her world is black. She makes her way through life with her other senses. Her steepled fingers guide her around sharp corners. Her ears are perceptive, picking up the quietest of sounds. She can smell the crisp autumn breeze, the aroma of fresh bread.

It's almost as if she is deceiving the world.

* * *

"You're pretty," John tells her.

She can feel the texture of the rough wooden bench they're sitting on, hear the leaves falling. It's a peaceful atmosphere. But a cynical laugh escapes her mouth.

"But what is the meaning of your words, when I cannot see it for myself?" she quips.

Another gust of wind rips through her hair, laughs along with her, mocking her. She can hear the rustle of John's coat as he shifts closer to her, and suddenly, her body feels a lot warmer.

"I suppose you'll just have to believe me then," he replies.

Her fingers skate down the slope of his shoulder, down to his hand, and intertwines his fingers with his callused ones. "I hate that the world does not work out fair," she says quietly. "You can compose sonnets, poems, even merely compliment me about my beauty, but i won't be able to see it for myself."

His hand squeezes hers. "You never have to validate yourself, love," he consoles. "Just know that in the eyes of the people you care about most, you are beautiful."

And she allows herself to believe him.

* * *

She has never seen herself in a mirror before, but with these glasses, she can. She's blinded at first, but it clears and she can _see._

(John has invented them, she has already rewarded him earlier by kissing him silly. He's still in bed, absolutely dazed.)

It feels odd to see herself like this for the first time. She's wearing lacy emerald lingerie, which looks awfully bright against her pale skin.

But she's whole, complete. She can see that she's not broken whatsoever; she looks strong, confident.

She can _see._

* * *

 _332 words_

* * *

Prompt of the Day: (AU) Blind

 **Writing Club**

Disney - T2 - Magic Mirror: Write a story with a mirror of your own choice that is somehow magical.

Shannon's Showcase - 26. (Title) Smoke and Mirrors

Book Club - Captain Hook: (word) broken, (color) emerald, (dialogue) "I hate that the world does not work out fair."

Showtime - 18. Guns and Ships - (trait) Ingenuitive

Amber's Attic - Het 2. JohnAmelia

CYB - O4

Lo's Lowdown - C4. Joly: AU: disability


	93. a reunion (a beacon of hope)

Harry tugs at Lily's sleeve, making a sort of noise through his throat. Lily, who is in the middle of sipping the last of her chamomile tea, looks her son. "What is it, little buddy?"

Harry raises his chubby fist in the direction of the window, excitement swimming in his eyes. Lily glances at the window and she jumps to her feet, disregarding the teacup clattering against the saucer as it falls to the ground. She scoops Harry into her arms and rushes to the door, conveniently neglecting all safety measures.

There's a knock and Lily balances Harry in one arm while unlocking the door with the other.

"James!" she beams, smiling from ear to ear at her husband. She almost jumps him out of sheer happiness, but then Harry giggles and she remembers there's a baby present.

"Careful, Lils, I could be an imposter," he laughs, and that easy smile that Lily loves spreads across his face.

"With that statement—" _and my favorite smile_ "—you just proved otherwise," she retorts cheekily.

"Lils," he cautions, but there's a lucid gleam of eagerness in his eyes.

"Fine," she says, scowling playfully. "What was the reservation for our first date?"

It's a trick question, and they both know it.

"I didn't take you out for our first date," James replies promptly. "It was a picnic in the kitchens, since it was raining and I couldn't go through with my original plans."

"That's correct," Lily informs him unnecessarily and lets him in, closing the door behind him.

James steps inside, impatiently fixating his eyes on Harry. "Already knew that. Now can I have my son?"

Lily pouts. "Aren't you forgetting about the woman who gave birth to him?" she teases.

James rolls his eyes. "Blimey, Lils—"

"It's okay, I was just kidding," she says. "I would've done the same thing." She deposits Harry in James's arms and father and son are reunited at last. He kisses Lily quickly before focusing his full attention on his son.

And the first thing Harry does is grab at James's glasses.

Lily laughs as James adopts an offended expression. "Mate, I thought you wanted me, not the glasses. Makes me regret choosing you over Mummy."

Harry doesn't seem to care. He slides James's glasses of off his nose and Lily swiftly plucks them out of his grasp. Harry scrunches his nose, displeased.

"It's your turn," Lily reminds him as Harry releases a wail.

"But I just—" He catches Lily's eye and seems to rethink his protest. "I'll take care of it."

"Good." Lily throws him a wink and smiles coquettishly. "We'll do our _own_ reunion later."

And she leaves the room, leaving James with a crying baby in his arms and a dopey smile on his face.

Nine years later, she still makes him feel like a lovesick teenager all over again.

* * *

 **Prompt of the Day: Genre - Family**

 **Going Postal - Section 6, Postcard - (setting) Godric's Hollow**

 **WC: 475**


	94. the starry path of fate

His brother is a player. He doesn't want to be like that. He wants to find someone on the first or second try.

He does on the second try.

* * *

The first person Regulus ever dates is a drunkard. She always has a flask of alcohol in her hand, whether it be wine or whiskey.

She's always inebriated.

Even during their breakup, she's drunk.

It all starts when she goes to bar at night, when he's sound asleep, his dreams troubled by her. She gets sloshed, brings another man to their flat, and sleeps with him (in the guest room).

But she doesn't get away with it. He finds her that night after a late-night washroom stop, her legs wrapped around the other man's torso and his mouth latched onto her neck. Both of them are naked.

" _What the hell?"_ Regulus is beyond pissed. He's _livid._ Even though he admits this was a long time coming.

His girlfriend yanks herself away from her lover and pulls the sheets over them. Even drunk, she knows the border between wrong and right. And this is _definitely wrong._

"Reggie baby," she slurs, gesturing wildly. "Come 'n join us."

He's not interested in the prospect of a threesome. Not even remotely. "No."

"Why not?" She pushes herself up a little, putting her breasts on display. Regulus avoids them steadfastly, keeping his eyes on her hazy ones.

He's had enough.

"Get out," he snaps, pointing in the direction of the door. "Get your clothes and get out. Both of you."

The man scrambles out of the bed and hastily starts donning his clothes, but she frowns. "Why?"

"Just go," he insists.

"Fine." She pouts, but he's dead set on his decision. She stumbles around the room sluggishly, gathering her clothes, and he makes no move to help her. He's beyond pity.

The man finishes dressing and Regulus steps aside, giving him a glare that would melt him into a puddle.

Meanwhile, his girlfriend - ex-girlfriend, mind you - finally finishes collecting her clothes, but doesn't put them on. She's going to regret that vacuous decision later.

"Won you come with meh?"

"No."

* * *

Regulus doesn't typically climb trees. He only does it when he's bored or upset and needs a fresh outlook.

Today, it's the latter.

He remembers when he used to climb trees with Sirius. Their mother would always yell at them for being "improper" and demand they come down. They initially refused before one would cave, and then, the other would follow.

Regulus misses those carefree, innocent days.

He ascends a tree in the nearby park, a little clumsy, since it's been a while since he has climbed up a tree. He perches on one of the lower-hanging branches, just high enough that he is obscured by the leaves, but he can watch what's around him.

He sees a man walking his dog. A girl and her friend skipping stones by the lake. He sees fleeting glimpses of idyllic activities, people living their lives. And he wishes he could be among them.

Then he sees a man wandering alone. He's quite good-looking, but he looks...lonely. And Regulus, as much as he wants to stew in his own loneliness, decides to join him.

* * *

His heart flutters as he looks at Barty.

Maybe this isn't so bad after all.

* * *

 _550 words_

* * *

Prompt of the day- BartyRegulus


	95. silver ribbons of love

The first time he saw her, she was wearing silver ribbons in her hair. They fluttered magnificently in the breeze as she talked to Lily, a beautiful smile etched on her face.

And Frank was smitten.

* * *

"You fancy her!" Sirius accused, a buoyant grin on his face.

"Please say that louder, I don't think people in the dungeons heard you," Frank hissed.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "It's so obvious to anyone with a pair of functioning eyes."

"Does that mean that she—"

"Everyone except her," Sirius corrected. "She's still painfully but surely oblivious."

"Good." He sighed.

* * *

She stopped wearing the silver ribbons in fourth year, and that was when she hit a growth spurt. She grew taller, shapelier, _gorgeous._

Frank's heart beats faster as she stepped off of the train. And she was smiling. No silver ribbons were in her hair.

He thought she looked better without them. Especially with all of the other improvements.

* * *

Frank kissed Alice for the first time under mistletoe.

It was Christmas time and snow was gently falling outside. They bumped into each other. Alice was conversing with Lily and Frank with James.

James and Lily kissed first, shyly and blushing furiously, which turned into a full blown snog. It took many minutes to surface.

And then, Alice looked up at them, smiling warmly albeit bashfully. He was struck speechless by how adorable she looked with her rosy red cheeks and her eyes glimmering with joy.

Joy, _for him._

Needless to say, they both enjoyed the kiss thoroughly.

He asked her to be his girlfriend. She said yes.

And incidentally, she wore the silver hair ribbons on their first date.

Frank was a happy man.

* * *

300 words

Prompt of the day: (color) silver


	96. our future is in your hands

"Do you really have to go?" Rowena pleaded, desperation and fear flooding every cell of her body, ripping at every fiber of her being. It spilled off of her in waves. "Can't you just stay here?"

"Give me a reason I _need_ to stay," Salazar growled, leaning against the railing, not taking his gaze off of the distant horizon. "Godric's turned his back on me. Helga is traveling abroad. Why should I stay?"

Rowena studied his hunched posture, his clenched jaw, finally settled on his dark eyes, swimming with brooding and determination. "Me."

"I'm sorry?"

"You need to stay for _me,"_ she clarified. "I would—"

"—miss me?" Salazar released a humorless laugh. "Spare me your pity. You wouldn't miss me." He cast his eyes downward. "No one would."

Hurt and indignation rose within her. "You think I'm pitying you?" she scoffed, bitterness lacing her voice.

Salazar rolled his eyes and didn't look up from his lap. This ignited a fire of rage in Rowena's heart.

"I care about you," she spat. "More than you think. I'm here, begging because I _care_. Godric cared, but you were stubborn enough to not listen to him."

"What's stopping me from doing it now?" Salazar challenged. "I'm not a stranger to your love of lost causes, dear one."

"Because Godric and I care about you in _different ways_ ," Rowena confessed. "He loves you like a friend, a protective one at that. My love, however, crosses the boundary, goes beyond platonic. Need I spell it out for you what I mean?"

 _There,_ she thought, satisfied, an enormous weight lifted off of her chest. Rather than feeling mortified, she felt relieved.

For the first time since they'd met, Salazar was bound by speechlessness.

"You...love me?" he finally uttered, his face slightly pink (another first).

"I do," she confirmed, heat rushing to her cheeks.

He said nothing and Rowena worried her lip, attempting to gauge his reaction. And then, a slow smile grew on his face.

"I will...have to reconsider my journey," he said, his black eyes meeting hers, but they both knew he'd made his decision already.

And Rowena was elated.

* * *

 _WC: 357_

Prompt of the Day - (setting) Astronomy Tower

Writing Club: Shannon's Shpwcase - 27 (Trait) Stubborn; Book Club - Tik Tok: ((dialogue) "I'm not a stranger to your love of lost causes, dear one.", (trait) selfless, (word) protect; Showtime - 38. Burn - (trait) Paranoid; Amber Attic - Het 5. SalazarRowena; Lyric Alley - 22. I panic for a second, thinking "we're through"

Eastern Funfair - Ferris Wheel 15. (location) astronomy tower

Northern Funfair - Ginger and Coffee Liqueur


	97. it was never written in the stars

"You will be wedded to Cygnus Black." her mother declared importantly. "So it is imperative that you look your best."

Druella, with her red-rimmed eyes and blotchy face, could not look any worse.

* * *

 _Tangled bedsheets and entangled limbs. White-blonde hair and glowing silver eyes. Whispered promises and whiskey breath._

 _It was only supposed to be a one-night stand._

 _It wasn't supposed to turn into a torrid affair._

* * *

Druella gazed at herself in the mirror, conflicted. She didn't recognize herself anymore. She was the shell of the haughty, respectable girl that she used to be.

Abraxas Malfoy had changed her.

* * *

 _They were at a function for purebloods. She had a wine glass in her hand and mingling with the guests, but she could feel his eyes on her the entire time._

* * *

"Are you ready, dear?" her mother asked from outside of the door.

Druella adjusted her skirt for the last time and tried to smile. She couldn't.

"Almost," she called.

* * *

" _Why is a lovely lady like yourself alone?" a smooth, honeyed voice reached her ears, and she turned to see a dashing man, dressed in a crisp suit._

" _None of your business," she replied curtly, daintily sipping from her glass._

 _HIs eyes bored into her. "I make everything about pretty young women my business."_

" _Are you flirting with me?"_

* * *

She could still feel his lips on her collarbone, his hands greedily gripping her hips. She subconsciously touched her neck.

"Do you take the Cygnus Black to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

It was time. She met his eyes over Cygnus's shoulder and he lifted a delicate eyebrow.

"I do."

* * *

" _Glad you noticed," he quipped._

 _Druella felt the first stirrings of pleasure as his eyes swept over her. He was handsome, and she could feel tingling in her spine._

* * *

"Then I now pronounce you husband and wife."

There was applause as Cygnus leaned in eagerly, his small hand clutching the small of her back. She locked eyes defiantly with Abraxas once more as their lips met.

It was time to start anew and leave the shadows of her affair behind.

* * *

 _348 words_

 _Writing Club - Showtime - 37._ _The Reynolds Pamphlet - (word) Torrid;_ _Amber's Attic: Het 6 Abraxas Druella (bonus)_


	98. you're my priority

"It's awfully quiet tonight," Kingsley said as he sipped his beer.

"Yeah, business hasn't been booming since the war began," Rosmerta admitted as she wiped down the counters. "It's a desert town, quite honestly. I'm lucky if I get even five customers per day."

"Sounds rough."

"It is." Rosmerta chewed her lip anxiously, glancing out the door at the darkening sky. "I'm surprised we're still in business."

Kingsley eyed her closely. She seemed exhausted and looked like she hadn't slept in days. "Rosie, you okay?"

"I'm fine," she replied dismissively.

"You look tired."

"I'm fine," she repeated, though it was with less conviction.

And promptly fainted.

* * *

When Rosmerta came to, Kingsley was gently wiping her head with a sponge. Her eyes fluttered open and he was greeted with two dazzling orbs of green.

"You're awake," he stated.

"Duh," she said, rolling her eyes.

(He was glad to see that fire back.)

"What...what happened?"

"You blacked out," he informed her, stopping his ministrations. "You haven't rested in a few days; you've been running yourself ragged, and that took a toll on you."

Rosmerta sunk back onto her pillow. "Remind me what I was thinking when I did that?"

Kingsley laughed hollowly. "You need some sleep, Rosie. I'll man the counter for a few hours. Sleep."

"You would really do that for me?"

"Of course," he said, and he meant it. "If it means the improvement of your wellbeing, then I'll do it."

"But don't you need to get back to work?"

"My job can wait. The Minister can survive without me for a little while. Now sleep."

It didn't take her long to fall asleep, her gentle snores filling the room and Kingsley sat back, slightly content.

As long she felt better, he didn't mind being late to work. She was more important.

* * *

 _303 words_

 _Writing Club - Showtime - 42. (food) beer; Amber's Attic - Het 8, KingsleyRosmerta_


	99. sagacious precision

The expression on Blaise's face is comical as he looks around. He looks like a mixture between amused and horrified.

The room looks like Gryffindor threw up on it. There are Gryffindor banners all over the walls, their blankets are emblazoned with the Gryffindor crest, their bedsheets are red—basically, their dormitory is Gryffindor-themed.

And in the middle of it all is Theo, looking glum and slightly pissed.

"It's Dumbledore's new 'house unity' initiative," he explains tartly. "And the Heads of Houses drew for houses, and we got the worst pick of the lot."

"Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff would certainly be better," Blaise remarks. "What did the other houses draw?"

"Gryffindor got Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw Slytherin, and Hufflepuff Ravenclaw," Theo reports, glancing dismally at the new decorations. "I can't believe we have to live like this until the end of the year."

"Well, if you think about it, it's not so bad," Blaise reasons.

"Are you kidding me? We couldn't have gotten worse if we'd tried."

"Well, at least they didn't change the bed arrangements." A sultry smirk crosses Blaise's lips and the atmosphere suddenly changes. The air is charged with electricity.

"Thank goodness for that," Theo murmurs.

(Their beds are closer than they should be, with them dating and all. Theo's bed is less than a yard away from Blaise's, meaning either of them could sneak to the other's without disturbance.)

Blaise smirks again, stepping closer to Theo, until he can feel the heat radiating off of him.

"My bed or yours?" leaves Theo's lips seconds before their lips crash together. Blaise answers that for him wordlessly, pushing Theo backwards. They fall onto Theo's bed, kissing furiously and hands wander.

* * *

"You're right, this wasn't so bad," Theo comments idly as they pack their trunks.

Blaise smiles enigmatically. "I'm always right," he teases.

"Oh, the great and wise Blaise Zabini," Theo says, mock-bowing. "How ever can I repay you?"

"Hmm." Blaise taps his chin thoughtfully. "I would say money, but kisses are also very welcome." He smirks roguishly and Theo grins.

"Oh, I would more than happy to oblige."

* * *

 _346 words_

 _Writing Club: Amber's Attic - BlaiseTheo_


	100. you're my saving grace

"You're fired!"

Dudley sighed. It seemed that he couldn't do anything right. First it was the coffee machine, then accidentally punching his boss, and now, breaking the printer.

He really needed to get his life back together.

* * *

The bar was conveniently close to his former job, so that's where he went. Hell, if he was going to be jobless, he might as well forget about it.

He ordered drink after drink, every kind he could think of. A martini, a bottle of wine, spirits, beer, gin—every possible drink he could remember the name of in his intoxicated state of mind.

Everything grew hazier and hazier—blurrier and blurrier—and he was feeling very wobbly—and that's when he fainted.

* * *

He woke up in an unfamiliar environment. Birds were chirping—a pleasant sound as opposed to the loud alarm he woke up to every morning—a fresh summer breeze was blowing through an open window, and his head was pounding.

He groaned, shifting himself up into a sitting position and took a look at his surroundings. The walls were painted yellow, the furniture cream-colored, and several paintings hung up on the walls.

He looked down and saw he was sitting on a couch—and still in his work clothes. Combined with his throbbing head and the liquid stains on his shirt, it didn't take him long to put together the pieces.

"Rough night?" a mellow voice asked and Dudley's head jerked up.

"Where—where am I?" he asked, rubbing his head gingerly.

"You're in my flat," the man said. "I'm Piers—Piers Polkiss."

"Piers?" said Dudley faintly. "That's an—odd name."

"No more than Dudley," Piers retorted lightly, and for the first time, Dudley noticed the tray in his arms.

"Is that food?" Right on cue, his stomach grumbled.

"Yup. I didn't know what you liked, so I brought one of everything."

Dudley's nose picked up the scent of warm toast and pancakes and he rotated around eagerly, staring at the tray. "That's marvelous, thank you."

And he dug in, not bothering with utensils. He ate ravenously, gulping down everything like he hadn't eaten in days.

"Careful, or you might vomit," Piers said, amusement coloring his tone.

Just as he said that, Dudley felt an uncomfortable stirring in his stomach and a wave of nausea swept over him. Covering his mouth, he sprinted out of the room and pushed open that he came to—which was the washroom, thankfully—and uncovered his mouth.

Once he was done, he sat back and sighed. Getting to his feet, he looked at his reflection in the mirror and was disgusted.

"Remind me to never get drunk again," he said aloud to no one in particular.

* * *

440 words

Writing Club - Showtime 34. The Adams Administration - (plot point) being fired; Amber's Attic - Het 4, DudleyPiers


End file.
